Always
by madisonhagan1
Summary: Snape falls in love with his student, Melusine Slytherin, Salazar's heir. And Voldemort's only way of coming back from the dead, thus, returning to the world. She starts Hogwarts late, as a senior at 18 years old. Will she learn to love the cold, emotionless man? Can he protect her from Voldemort's return and Salazar's dream to wipeout all muggle borns? Will her past stay secret?
1. Melusine Slytherin

**_In my story Snape and Dumbledore live on unlike they really do in the films and books. And Snape never loved Lily. Also his hate for Harry still stands. (He just hates him/dislikes him.) _**

**_OC Information: Melusine Henderson aka Melusine Slytherin, Sarah and Jack Slytherin's only child and daughter. And Salazar Slytherin's only heir. Also Voldemort's only way of coming back from the dead, thus, returning to the world._**

**_Born: 1980, Godric's Hollow, England._**

**_Died: Still alive. The current year is 1998._**

**_Age: Current age is 18 years old._**

**_Height: 5 ft. 11 in._**

**_Weight: 115 pounds_****_  
_****_Occupation: Witch._**

**_Other Titles: The Girl who lived. Slytherin's Heir. Snake-girl And Mel. Snape's Favorite. Chosen one. And Snape's girl._**

**_Blood-Status: Pure-Blood._**

**_Marital Status: Single, and later on in a relationship with Severus Snape._**

**_Species: Human, With Snake-like qualities/Witch._**

**_Gender: Female._**

**_Hair Color: Light/Platinum Blonde._**

**_Eye Color: Bright, yellowish-green._**

**_Skin Color: Caucasian, Pale._**

**_Family Members: Jack Slytherin. (Father.) Sarah Slytherin. (Mother.) Mary Henderson. (Aunt and Adoptive Mother.) John Henderson. (Uncle and Adoptive Father.)_**

**_House: Slytherin._**

**_Loyalty: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Snape, The Snape Family, The Slytherin Family, Slytherin House, Albus Dumbledore, and Henderson Family-(To an extent.)_**

**_Wand: Length: 15 in. Wood: Black, Elder. Covered in the strongest snake and dragon scales. (Dark green almost black.) Core: Both, Dragon heartstring and Thestral tail hair. Flexibility: Extremely Bendy and Strong. Has a piercing black-metal tip. And a snake design, the handle itself is shaped into a hissing snake, baring It's fangs._**

**_Patronus: Female Snake._**

**_Personality: Witty, cunning, brave, strong willed, a certain disregard for the rules, fun, not too serious, sometimes shy, but usually outgoing and sarcastic. Honest, trustworthy, sweet, selfless, A bit rebellious, and a good sense of humor. Etc..._**

**_Looks: Beautiful/Sexy. Sweet, sort of baby-faced looking. No freckles. Tall, fit, filled out. (Boob's cup size is a C. And has a fit, round butt.) Waist is tiny and fit. But not too fit. (Doesn't look like a guy.) Legs toned and skinny/fit. (Overall her body is completely toned.) Long hair, hair is down to her butt, naturally straight. Usually wears it down, and straight. With two small sides braided back to form a crown-like shape. Abnormally Bright, green/yellowish eyes. Like a snake or a cat. Pale, but not pasty pale, more like a porcelain doll, pale. Perfect skin. (All in all she could be a model.) Perfect, straight, white teeth. Canines are unusually sharp, and slightly longer then a regular human's. High cheekbones. Full lips. And almond shaped eyes. Small but pointy ears. Small hands and feet. (But a perfect proportion for her body size.) Long, full, black, eyelashes. Thin, perfect light-blonde eyebrows. (Always kept groomed.) Usually wears green and black clothes with her Slytherin robes. Usually wears matching earrings, (Usually studs.) Wears heels but sometimes wears flats, never wears any other type of shoe except sometimes boots. (Likes too wear corsets. Not too showy, more like casual corsets.) And mini skirts or leggings/jeggings. And likes to wear leather, and small jewelry. Usually paints her long nails, (Shaped into a long almond/oval shape. Very feminine.) A color that matches her outfit or personality. Carries around her pet snake, Naga, usually everywhere she goes. Her makeup for everyday is full foundation/pink blush routine, black cat-eye with green eyeliner underneath the black eyeliner on lower lash line. Black mascara, and black lips. (Not as heavy as you think.) _**

**_Picture Links: Look for these IMPORTANT pictures on my profile._**

**_Naga, pet snake: Naga is her male pet snake. The world's (Non magical and muggle) Most dangerous and most poisonous snake. 13 ft. long. And as wide as Melusine's thigh. Dark green. (So dark He's almost black.) Sharp, long, fangs. And large yellow eyes with black slitted-pupils. No markings on body._**

**_Thorntwig her pet owl: Male, and dark brown, shaded mostly with black. Yellow eyes. Black feet, black talons. And a large black beak._**

**_Author's note: Quite a lot of the first chapter is taken from the book and altered. I mean no copyright! I promise! Please bare with me. Soon I won't be using the books. I just needed a storyline. And for you to know where this takes place. She sort of takes Harry's place in the book, at least when it comes to her origin story, sort of. Just bare with me. I love you J.K Rowling. And Alan Rickman! I promise you I mean no harm, or copyright. The reason I'm using the books is because there needs to be a Déjà vu feeling here. You'll see why. _**

Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, of number ten, Onyx Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Henderson was the owner of a firm called Drilling Co, which made drills. He was a tall, thin man with a thin beard and a shaved head. Mrs. Henderson was thin and blonde and was nearly twice as tall as her husband, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Henderson's had no children but often talked about adopting. The Henderson's had everything they wanted, except a child. A _normal_ child. For they held a nasty secret.

They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about Mrs. Henderson's sister. Mrs. Slytherin, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Henderson pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unHendersonish as it was possible to be. The Henderson's shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Slytherin's arrived in the street. The Henderson's knew that the Slytherin's had a small daughter too, but they had never even seen her. They hoped to god she wasn't like _them_. Not their niece, please. not their own niece.

When Mr. and Mrs. Henderson woke up on a dull, gray friday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Henderson hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Henderson gossiped away happily as she cooked in the kitchen. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Henderson picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Henderson on the cheek, and got into his car, backing out of number ten's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Henderson didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Onyx Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Henderson blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Henderson drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Onyx Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Henderson gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town, he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Henderson couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Henderson was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Henderson that this was probably some silly stunt — these people were obviously collecting for something . . . Yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Henderson arrived in the Drilling Co parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Henderson always sat with his back to the window in his office on the tenth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Henderson, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at ten different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a donut from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large donut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Slytherin's, that's right, that's what I heard —"

"— yes, their daughter, Melusine—"

Mr. Henderson stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his beard, thinking . . . No, he was being stupid. Slytherin wasn't such an unusual name. Was it? He was sure there were lots of people called Slytherin who had a daughter called Melusine. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece was called Melusine. He'd never even seen the girl. It might have been Madison. Or Megan. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Henderson; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that . . . but all the same, those people in cloaks . . .

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Henderson realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby's stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! And the baby girl is going to be safe from now on, there's no coming back for him, nope, nope, nope. Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Henderson around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Henderson stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number ten, the first thing he saw — and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Henderson loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Henderson wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Henderson had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how she had learned something new about them. Mr. Henderson tried to act normally. When they were done eating, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGruffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Henderson sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Slytherin's. . .

Mrs. Henderson came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er —Mary, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Henderson looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Henderson mumbled. "Owls . . . shooting stars . . . and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today . . ."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Henderson.

"Well, I just thought . . . maybe . . . it was something to do with...you know... _her_ crowd."

Mrs. Henderson sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Henderson wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Slytherin." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their daughter— she'd be about The neighbor's kid's age now, wouldn't she?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Henderson stiffly.

"What's her name again? Madison, isn't it?"

"Melusine. Nasty, weird, uncommon name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Henderson, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs

to bed. While Mrs. Henderson was in the bathroom, Mr. Henderson crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Onyx Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Slytherin's? If it did . . . if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Henderson's got into bed. Mrs. Henderson fell asleep quickly but Mr. Henderson lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Slytherin's were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Henderson. The Slytherin's knew very well what he and Mary thought about them and their kind. . . . He couldn't see how he and Mary could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect them. . . .

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Henderson might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Onyx Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Onyx Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His grey/blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Henderson, wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number ten, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing curved, black, glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her dark grey hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Henderson's dark living-room window.

"I heard it. Flocks of owls . . . shooting stars. . . . Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You- Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.

"It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too — well — noble to use them."

"It's lucky its dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "Is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James . . . I can't believe it . . . I didn't want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . ."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know . . . I know . . ." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But — he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's — it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done . . . all the people he's killed . . . he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know. I've delivered him to his aunt and uncle. The Dursleys. He shall be safe there."

"And they're also saying he's killed...that he's killed...Oh god, tell me, Albus! Did he kill the Slytherin's?"

"Yes..."

"What about the baby?"

"Melusine is safe. Both children are safe."

"Oh thank god!"

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late again. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Slytherin's heir to her aunt and uncle. Do you know what Voldemort would do if he got his hands on her? She could be the worlds most powerful witch when she's older. If he's truly gone because of Harry, then I'm sure he's looking for a way to come back. And that's through her. Slytherin's only heir. This is her only hope to maybe living a normal life, with her muggle family."

"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number ten.

"Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. She can't possibly live here!"

"It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous — a legend —every child in our world will know her name! Just like Harry will! The sole survivor of the Slytherin's. Possibly the only way Voldemort can return."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Can't you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the girl getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Melusine underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing her."

"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "But you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, but it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild _— long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of green blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got her, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got her out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. She fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep.

"Well — give her here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Melusine in his arms and turned toward the Henderson's house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to her, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Melusine and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" Hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it — Her mother and father are dead — an' poor little Melusine's off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, its all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Melusine gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Melusine's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, a tear rolling down her cheek. And the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

Even though they've only knew the little bundle of joy for a year, they had fell in love with her.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "That's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Onyx Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number ten.

"Good luck, Melusine," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Onyx Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Melusine Slytherin rolled over inside her blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on, not knowing she was special, not knowing she was famous, not knowing she would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Henderson's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, She couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Melusine Slytherin— May she live a life full of happiness and safety and grow up to be a powerful witch!"

Nearly eighteen years had passed since the Henderson's had woken up to find their niece on the front step, but they had moved, but nothing much had changed at all. The sun rose on the tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number twelve on the Henderson's front door; it crept into their living room, which was decorated almost exactly the same as it had been at the old house, on the night when Mr. Henderson had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Seventeen years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a small pink baby doll wearing different-colored bows— but Melusine Slytherin was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a beautiful blond girl riding her first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with her 'father', being hugged and kissed by her 'mother.' The room held no sign at all that the girl known as Melusine Slytherin, now Melusine Henderson, was adopted.

Yet Melusine Slytherin was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Her 'mother' Mary was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Honey, Now!"

Melusine woke with a start. Her 'mother' rapped on the door again.

"Up! baby, up!" She screeched. Melusine heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. She had a funny feeling she'd had the same dream before.

Her 'mother' was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Melusine.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look perfect. And don't you dare go back to sleep, I want everything perfect on your birthday."

Melusine groaned.

"What did you say?" Her 'mother' snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing . . ."

Her birthday — how could she have forgotten? Melusine got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. she found a pair in her dresser and put them on.

When she was dressed she went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all of her birthday presents. It looked as though she had gotten the new computer she wanted, not to mention the second television and the new wardrobe. They spoiled her too much. She hated that.

Melusine was tall for her age. She had a thin face, a filled out, fit figure, and light blonde hair, The only thing she liked about her own appearance was her bright green eyes. Although everyone told her she was the most beautiful girl they've ever met. She never believed them. She always asked her mother where she was born, because she didn't sound like them.

"In England. Like us." she had said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions _— that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Henderson's.

Her 'father' entered the kitchen as Melusine was turning over the bacon, helping her 'mother'.

"You both look beautiful!" He smiled.

She and her 'mother' smiled back, as he kissed them both on the cheek.

Melusine put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. She looked over to the living room, counting her presents.

"Thirty-six," she said, looking up at her 'mother' and 'father'.

"Why do you always spend so much money on me? You know I'm content with just spending time with you."

At that moment the telephone rang and Mary went to answer it. While she unwrapped her presents, a video camera, sixteen new computer games, and a new computer. She was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when her 'mother' came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, John," She said. "Mrs. Fin's broken her leg. She can't take her." She jerked her head in Melusine's direction.

John's mouth fell open in horror, but Melusine's heart gave a leap. Every year on her birthday, her parents took her to Mrs. Fin's, a family friend, and she spoils her rotten with cookies and cakes, she was sick of being spoiled, it bothered her. "Now what?" said Mary, Melusine knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Fin had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded herself it would be whole year before she would get over that sugar rush.

"I suppose we could take her to the zoo this time," said her 'mother' slowly. ". . . and buy her a bunch of candy. . . ."

"Yeah, we could do that."

They drove to the zoo in silence. When they got there, her 'father' turned around to speak to her.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Melusine's, "I'm warning you now, hun— any funny business, anything at all come and get us, ok? If anything, uh, weird happens, as always ignore it and come to us. Ok?"

"Nothing's going to happen this time, dad." said Melusine, "Honestly . . . I don't even know how I caught that person on fire, I didn't have a match or anything."

"I know, I know you don't. It wasn't your fault ok, you didn't do anything."

The problem was, strange things often happened around Melusine and it was just no good telling the Henderson's she thought she really was making them happen. They kept telling her she was normal, that everything was normal. And nothing was her fault.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. She'd make sure of it.

While he drove, John complained to Mary. He liked to complain about things: people at work, the council, the bank, This morning, it was motorcycles.

". . . roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Melusine, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Her 'father' nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Melusine, his face like a gigantic beet with a beard: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

"I-I know they don't," said Melusine. "It was only a dream."

But she wished she hadn't said anything. If there was one thing her parents hated even more than her asking questions about family, it was her talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think she might get dangerous ideas or beliefs.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Henderson's bought Melusine a large chocolate ice cream at the entrance.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. A buff teenage boy, around Melusine's age, wanted to see the huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Melusine followed, interested to see the snakes also. She had always had a bond with the huge reptiles. He quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around her 'father's' car and crushed it into a trash can — but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

The boy stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening green coils.

"Come on you stupid snake, move!" He yelled at it through the thick glass. He tapped on it, but the snake didn't budge.

"Come on!" He ordered. He rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," He moaned, and shuffled away.

Melusine scowled at the ignorant, spoiled boy, and moved in front of the tank, looking intently at the snake. She wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were level with Melusine's.

_It winked._

Melusine stared. Snakes can't wink, could they? They had no eyelids. But she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward the teenage boy that had been trying to wake him up so rudely, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Melusine a look that said quite plainly:

"_I get that all the time._"

"I know," She murmured through the glass, though she wasn't sure the snake could hear her. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Melusine asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Melusine peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Melusine read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind her made both of them jump. "MIKE! MR. MUMFRY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE _WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Mike, the same teenage boy from earlier, came running towards them and his friend, as fast as he could.

"Excuse me, Ms." He said, pushing past Melusine, caught by surprise, she fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, The boy and his father were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Melusine sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past her, Melusine heard a low, hissing voice say, "Brazil, here I come. . . . Thanksss, encanto."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "Where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made the boy's mother a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Melusine stayed, the boy, Mike, kept apologizing for shoving her to the floor, putting her in danger when the snake escaped. Him and his father and friend could only gibber. As far as Melusine had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in her 'father's' car, Her 'father', John was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while her 'mother' was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Melusine at least, was her 'mother' calming down enough to say, "Melusine was talking to it, weren't you, Honey?"

Her 'father' waited until they were in the house before starting on Melusine. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go—Bed — stay —Wait," before he collapsed into a chair, and her 'mother' had to run and get him a large brandy.

She lay on her soft bed much later, wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure her parents were asleep yet. They would be coming up sooner or later. What did she do to be in so much trouble?!

When she had been younger, Melusine had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take her away, but it had never happened; the Henderson's, her 'mother' and 'father' were her only family. Yet sometimes she thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know her. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to her once while out shopping with her 'mother' and 'father'. After asking Melusine furiously if she knew the man, her 'mother' had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at her once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken her hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Melusine tried to get a closer look.

At school, Melusine had no friends. Sure the guys tried to get in her pants, and she would beat them up and tell them to get lost, sure the popular girls wanted her as a friend, but after she dissed them, knowing they were no good, they bullied her, but learnt their lesson after she beat the shit out of their leader, Brittany. Everybody knew that the popular gang hated that odd Melusine Henderson in her cute little skirts and dresses, her long blonde hair, and her fascination with reptiles. And nobody liked to disagree with the popular gang. But when it came to her, they did so without question. Everyone liked her, except the people who were jealous.

She never felt she was worthy being jealous of, she was a very selfless person, always sacrificed her happiness for others.

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Melusine her longest-ever punishment. By the time she was allowed out of her bedroom again, the summer holidays had started. But she couldn't understand it. She hadn't done anything, had she?

Melusine was glad school was over, but there was no escaping her parent's friends that always came over. This was why she spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where she could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came she would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in her life, she wouldn't be with her overprotective parents all the time. She was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. The first time she had ever been out of private school.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," Her 'father' told Melusine. "Be careful, Ok?"

"I will, thanks," said Melusine.

"And don't let any boys touch you."

"I won't, I won't. I promise. I'll be fine, dad. Love you."

"I love you too." Her 'father' kissed her on her forehead before she left.

That evening, she paraded around the living room for the family in her brand-new uniform. Stonewall's girl's wore green sweater dresses and black flats. As she looked at her 'mother' and 'father' in her new outfit, Her 'father', John said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Her 'mother', Mary, burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her little Mel, she looked so beautiful. She had grown up so fast. Melusine didn't trust herself to speak. She thought two of her ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. This was so stupid.

The next morning she went downstairs for breakfast, her 'mother' and 'father' were already down there, reading the paper, and cooking.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Mary," said her 'father' from behind his paper.

"You go get it, honey. I'm cooking."

"Get the mail, Melusine, dear."

"Ok."

Melusine got up and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from her 'father' to his sister Cornelia, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and — _a letter for Melusine._

She picked it up and stared at it, her heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no real friends, no other relatives — she didn't belong to the library, so she'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. It read:

Ms. Melusine Henderson. Aka Melusine Slytherin  
12 Mangrove Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

Slytherin?

Turning the envelope over, her hand trembling, Melusine saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H_._

"Hurry up, baby!" shouted her 'father' from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Melusine went back to the kitchen, still staring at her letter. She handed her 'father' the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Her 'father; ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Cornelia's ill," he informed Mary "Ate some funny shrimp. . ."

"Honey!" said her 'mother' suddenly. "Honey, Melusine's got something!"

Melusine was on the point of unfolding her letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of her hand by her 'father'.

"Hey, dad! That's _mine_!" said Melusine, trying to snatch it back.

"Let me read it first." Yelled her 'father', shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"M-M-Mary!" He gasped.

Melusine tried to grab the letter to read it, but her 'father' held it high out of her reach. Her 'mother', Mary, took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"John! Oh my goodness —John!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Melusine was still in the room.

"_I _want to read it," said Melusine furiously, "As it's _mine._"

"No. Go to your room, now!" croaked her 'father', stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Melusine didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" She shouted. "Let _me _see it!" She demanded loudly.

"OUT!" roared her 'father', and he took her by the scruff of her neck and threw her into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Melusine stopped, and listen through the keyhole.

"John," Her 'mother'; was saying in a quivering voice, "Look at the address — how could they possibly know where we live? We moved, remember? You don't think they're watching the house? Us?"

"Watching — spying — might be following us," muttered her 'father' wildly.

"But what should we do, John? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want—"

Melusine could see her 'father's' shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer. . . . Yes, that's best . . . we won't do anything. . . ."

"But —"

"I'm not having one in the house, Mary! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense? Raise her as our own! She'll never know, it's the perfect plan!"

Raise her as their own? Never know? What was her 'father; talking about!? Weren't they her parents?

That evening when he got back from work, John Henderson visited Melusine, upstairs in her room. Not knocking before he came in.

"Where's my letter?" said Melusine, the moment her 'father' had walked through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said her 'father' shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was _not _a mistake," said Melusine angrily, "It had my name and address on it!"

"SILENCE!" yelled her 'father', He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Why? Why won't you tell me what's going on!?" asked Melusine.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped her 'father', leaving in a huff.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Melusine was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing she'd opened the letter in the hall. Her 'father' and 'mother' kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, her 'father', who seemed to be trying to be in nice mood, made his wife, Mary, go and get it. Suddenly they heard her scream. "There's another one! 'Ms. Melusine Henderson, aka Melusine Slyth-Oh my god!"

With a strangled cry, John leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Melusine right behind him. He had to wrestle Mary to get the letter from her, which was made difficult by the fact that Melusine had grabbed him around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by fists and feet, John straightened up, gasping for breath, with Melusine's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your room," he wheezed at Melusine. "Go — just go."

Melusine walked round and round her room. Someone knew she hadn't received her first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time she'd make sure they didn't fail. She had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Melusine turned it off quickly and dressed silently She mustn't wake her parents. She snuck downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

She was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Mangrove Drive and get the letters for number twelve first. Her heart hammered as she crept across the dark hall toward the front door —

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Melusine leapt into the air; she'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat — something _alive_!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to her horror, Melusine realized that the big, squashy something had been her 'father's' face. He had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Melusine didn't do exactly what she'd been trying to do. He shouted at her for about half an hour and then told her to go and make a cup of tea. She shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time she got back, the mail had arrived, right into her 'father's' lap. Melusine could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want —" She began, but her 'father; was tearing the letters into pieces before her eyes.

John didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," He explained to his wife, through a mouthful of nails, "If they can't _deliver _them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, John."

"Oh, these peoples minds work in strange ways, Mary, they're not like you and me," said Melusine's 'father', trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Mary had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Melusine. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

John stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Melusine found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Mary through the living room window. While John made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Mary shredded the letters in her food processor.

On Sunday morning, John sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "No damn letters today —" Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. The next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Henderson's ducked, but Melusine leapt into the air trying to catch one.

"Out! OUT!"

John seized Melusine around the waist and threw her into the hall. When Mary had run out with her arms over her face, John slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said her 'father';, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his beard at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Melusine was sniffling in the back seat; her father had hit her round the head for holding them up while she tried to pack her fantasy books.

They drove. And they drove. Even Mary didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then John would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off . . . shake 'em off," He would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. It was nightfall. She'd never had such a bad day in her life. She was hungry, sleepy, and confused. Her 'father' stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Her and her parents shared a room. Her 'father' snored but Melusine stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering. . . .

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

" 'Scuse me, but is one of you Ms. Melusine Slytherin? Only I got about a hundred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Ms. Melusine Henderson, aka Melusine Slytherin Room 20 Railview Hotel Cokeworth

Melusine made a grab for the letter but her 'father' knocked her hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said John, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Her 'mother' suggested timidly, hours later, but John didn't seem to hear her.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Melusine asked her 'mother' dully late that afternoon.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof the building. Melusine sniveled.

Her 'father' was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Mary when she asked what he'd bought.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said John gleefully, clapping his hands together. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Melusine privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer her up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the building and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. They went to bed, climbing up into a crowded, creaky mattress. The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Melusine couldn't sleep. She shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, her stomach rumbling with hunger. Her 'father's' snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of her watch, which was dangling on her small wrist, told her in ten minutes' time, it would be 12:00 A.M. She lay and watched the morning tick nearer, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Melusine heard something creak outside. She hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although she might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Mangrove Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that she'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Then two minutes to go, what was that funny crunching noise?

One minute to go, Thirty seconds . . . twenty . . . ten . . . nine — maybe she'd wake her 'mom' up. She felt scared. Was there going to be a hurricane?— three . . . two . . . one . . .

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Melusine sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

BOOM. They knocked again. Her 'mother' jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" She said stupidly. But became fully awake and was terrified. She noticed her 'daughter' was shaking and held her close, trying to comfort her.

There was a crash behind them and her 'father' jumped out of bed. He was holding a rifle in his hands — now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" He shouted. "I warn you — I'm armed!"  
There was a pause. Then —  
SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned back to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . . ."

He strode over to the bed where Melusine sat frozen with fear.

She squeaked and held onto her 'mother', who was patting her back, terrified, behind her husband.

"An' here's Melusine!" said the giant.

Melusine looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a teeny weeny little baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer mom, but yeh've got yer dad's eyes."

John made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, John, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of her 'father's' hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Her 'father' made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway —Melusine," said the giant, turning his back on the Henderson's, "A very happy mornin' to yeh. Got somethin' fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Melusine opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _Happy first year at Hogwarts, Melusine! _written on it in green icing.

What's Hogwarts?

Melusine looked up at the giant. She meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to her mouth, and what she said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Melusine's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together.

"I'd not say no ter somethin' stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Melusine felt the warmth wash over her as though she'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashed package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Melusine fidgeted a little. Her 'father' said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Honey."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"I ain't gonna poison her, Henderson, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Melusine, who was so hungry she had never tasted anything so wonderful, but she still couldn't take her eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, she said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er — no," said Melusine.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," She said quickly.

"_Sorry_?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Henderson's, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Melusine.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!" He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Henderson's were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Henderson's. "That this young woman— this girl! — knows nothin' abou' — about ANYTHING?" Melusine thought this was going a bit far. She had been to school, after all, and her marks weren't bad.

"I know _some _things," she said. "I can, you know, do geometry and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About _our _world, I mean. _Your _world. _My _world. _Yer parents' world._"

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.  
"HENDERSON!" he boomed.

John, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Melusine. "But yeh must know about yer mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're _famous. _You're _famous._"

"What? My — my mom and dad aren't famous, are they?"

"Yeh don' know . . . yeh don' know . . ." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Melusine with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" he said finally.

John suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell my daughter anything!"

A braver man than John Henderson would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You're daughter!? YOUR DAUGHTER!? She's not YOUR daughter! You never told her? You passed her up as your own? Never told her what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer her? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Henderson! An' you've kept it from her all these years?"

"Kept _what _from me?" Asked Melusine eagerly. "You-you're my parents, aren't you?"

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled John in panic.

Mary gave a gasp of horror. "No! Don't!"

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Melusine— yer a witch."

There was silence inside the hotel. Only the rain and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a _what_?" gasped Melusine.

"A witch, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Melusine stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Ms. Melusine Slytherin, The hotel. She pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards _)

Dear Ms. Slytherin,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress._

Questions exploded inside Melusine's head like fireworks and she couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes she stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that she could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
Given Melusine her letter.  
Taking her to buy her things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Melusine realized her mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, John, still ashen faced but looking very angry, moved into the fire light.

"She's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop her," he said. "A what?" said Melusine, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "It's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said John, "Swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Melusine. "You _knew _I'm a — a witch?"

"Knew!" shrieked Mary suddenly. "_Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that _school _— and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Sarah this and Sarah that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Slytherin at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — _abnormal _— and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up but at least we got you! Raised you as our own _normal_ child. What we had been wanting for years."

Melusine had gone very white. As soon as she found her voice she said, "Blown up? So you're really not my real parents? Not my real mommy, or daddy?"

"No we-we are. We can be-still be. Please don't go honey. We raised you. You're ours."

"Yours!? Your's!?" Roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Henderson's scuttled back to their corner. "How could someone like you, mere...mere muggles be the heir of Slytherin's parents! It's an outrage! A scandal! Melusine Slytherin not knowin' her own story when every kid in our world knows her name!"

"But why? What happened?" Melusine asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. "I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Melusine, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Henderson's.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it. . . ."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows —"

"Who?"

"Well — I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Melusine, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went . . . bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was . . ."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Melusine suggested.

"Nah — can't spell it. All right — _Voldemort._" Hagrid shuddered.

"Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about thirty eight years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Melusine. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches . . . terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway. " He grunted. "Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the mys- t'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before . . . probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em . . . maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween eighteen years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway . . .

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then — an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kidnap you. Wanted ter raise you as his own, I suppose, or maybe he just liked to have you on his side, you are, after all, the only heir to Slytherin. You hold great power. But we stopped him just in time, took you from em. An' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Melusine's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, she saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than she had ever remembered it before and she remembered something else, for the first time in her life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching her sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot . . . After we chased You-Know-Who away. He was weak, for he had killed the Potters. And for some reason couldn't kill their baby. That broke his power. That's why he needed you."

"Load of old tosh," said John. Melusine jumped; She had almost forgotten that her so called parents were there. John certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, hun," He snarled, "I accept there's some- thing strange about you— and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion — asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end —"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered red umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at John like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Henderson— I'm warning you — one more word . . ."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, John's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor. Melusine, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. "But what happened to Vol-, sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Melusine. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill Harry Potter. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see . . . He was gettin' more an' more powerful — why'd he go? He didn't. He came back and tried to kill Harry. But Harry won. I suppose he died. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. 'Cause somethin' about Harry finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — _I _dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin' about Harry stumped him, all right. And then you, you evaded him, somehow produced a shield until we found you and could take you to safety. You are a strong witch, even as a mere one year old."

Hagrid looked at Melusine with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Melusine, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A witch? Her? How could she possibly be? She'd spent her life being bullied by students at her school and sexually harassed by guys; if she was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty, slimy toads every time they'd tried to hit her or touch her inappropriately? If she'd once evaded the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come nothing special has happened?

"Hagrid," She said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a witch."

To her surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

She looked into the fire. Now that she came to think about it . . . every odd thing that had ever made her 'mother' and 'father; furious with her had happened when she, Melusine, had been upset or angry . . . chased by the popular gang, she had somehow found herself out of their reach . . . dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, but she'd managed to make it grow back . . . and the very last time a person had hit her, hadn't she got her revenge, without even realizing she was doing it? Hadn't she set a boa constrictor on him?

Melusine looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at her.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Melusine Slytherin, not a witch— you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But John wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you she's not going?" he hissed. "She's going to Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and she needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —"

"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop her, She is eighteen after all, an adult." growled Hagrid. "Stop Sarah an' Jack Slytherin's daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Her name's been down ever since she was born. She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and she won't know herself. She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled John.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER —" he thundered, "— INSULT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Mary— there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Mary was dancing on the spot with her hands clasped over her bottom, howling in pain. When she turned her back on them, Melusine saw a long lizard's tail poking through a hole in her pajama pants.

John Henderson roared. Pulling Mary into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "But it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn her into a lizard, but I suppose she was so much like a lizard anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Melusine under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff — one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job —"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Melusine.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Melusine.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

Melusine woke early the next morning. Although she could tell it was daylight, she kept her eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," She told herself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my bedroom."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

_And there_'_s mother knocking on the door, _Melusine thought, her heart sinking. But she still didn't open her eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," She mumbled, "I'm getting up."

She sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off her. The hotel was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Melusine scrambled to her feet, so happy she felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside her. She went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Melusine tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at her and carried on savaging the coat.

"Hagrid!" said Melusine loudly. "There's an owl —"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing _but _pockets, bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags . . . finally, She pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

She counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so she could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Mel, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Melusine was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. She had just thought of something that made her feel as though the happy balloon inside her had got a puncture.

"Um — Hagrid?"

"Mhm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I uh, haven't got any money — and you heard Dad-um, Uncle John last night . . . he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed —"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, girl! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer cake, neither."

"Wizards have _banks_?"

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

She dropped the bit of sausage she was holding.

"_Goblins_?"

"Yeah — so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Mel. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — 'cept maybe Hogwarts." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "Dumbledore usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you, gettin' things from Gringotts, knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Melusine followed Hagrid out into the parking lot. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle John had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" She asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"_Flew_?"

"Yeah — but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Melusine still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Melusine another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter — er — speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Melusine, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the red umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" She asked as they sped across the sea.

"Spells — enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high- security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way. Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on somethin'."

Melusine sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the _Daily Prophet. _She had learned from Uncle John that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, she'd never had so many questions in her entire life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" She asked, before she could stop herself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic _do_?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"_Why_? Blimey, Mel, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passersby's stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Melusine couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Mel? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Melusine, panting a bit as she ran to keep up, "Did you say there are _dragons _at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon, what abou' you? You'd _like _one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid."

"Me too, here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Melusine so she could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Mel?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Melusine took the parchment envelope out of her pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

She unfolded a second piece of paper she hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Uniform:

First-year students will require:  
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

And 4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Course books:

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ By: Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _By: Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _By: Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _By: Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ By: Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _By: Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _By: Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ _By: Quentin Trimble_

Other equipment:

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl/other type of bird OR a cat OR a toad OR a snake OR a rodent

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS!

"Can we buy all this in London?" Melusine wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

She had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Melusine had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Henderson's had cooked up? If Melusine hadn't known that the Henderson's had no sense of humor, she might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told her so far was unbelievable, Melusine couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, She wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Melusine had the most peculiar feeling that only she and Hagrid could see it. Before she could mention this, Hagrid had steered her inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Melusine's shoulder and making her knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at her, "is this — can this be — ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Melusine Slytherin. . . what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Melusine and seized her hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Ms. Slytherin, welcome back."

She didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at her. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Melusine found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Ms. Slytherin, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Ms. Slytherin, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Ms. Slytherin, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" Yelled Melusine, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"She remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? She remembers me!"

Melusine shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Mane!" said Hagrid. "Mel, Professor Mane will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts. He's new."

"M-M-Melusine S-Slytherin," stammered Professor Mane, grasping her hand, "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Mane?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts, for the lower grades." Muttered Professor Mane, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, M-M-Melusine?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Mane keep Melusine to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on — lots ter buy. Come on, Mel."

Doris Crockford shook her hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at her.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Mane was tremblin' ter meet yeh — mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first- hand experience. . . . They say he met werewolves in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject, kind of like Professor Quirrell, eh, oops, heh, wasn't suppose to mention him. — now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Werewolves? Hags? Melusine's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up . . . two across . . ." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Mel. Woo, does this bring back memories. I remember doin' this for good ol' Harry when he was about 11 years old."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "To Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Melusine's amazement. They stepped through the archway. She looked quickly over her shoulder and saw the arch- way shrink instantly back into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons, All Sizes. Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Melusine wished she had about eight more eyes. She turned her head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Melusine's age, maybe a year older, had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," She heard one of them say, "The new Nimbus Two Thousand and nine — fastest ever —" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments she had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon. . . .

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was —

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about 8 heads shorter than Melusine. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, She noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn. _

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours, _

_Thief, you have been warned, beware _

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, had to explain that ter Harry too. He wanted to know about the dragon. I bet you guys would make great friends." said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Melusine made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Ms. Melusine Slytherin's safe."

"S-Slytherin?" The goblin gulped. "Do...You have her key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblins book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Melusine watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it, Heh, this happened when I got Harry his money too. Never was great with rememberin' stuff unless of course It's important." said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order. Very well," he said, "I will have someone take you down to the vault. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Melusine followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

Griphook held the door open for them. Melusine, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in, Hagrid with some difficulty, and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Melusine tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, left, right, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Melusine's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open. Once, she thought she saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but was too late. They plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I'll never know," She called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "What's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gon' be sick."

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Melusine gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Melusine's— it was incredible. The Henderson's couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from her faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much everything cost them? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to her, buried deep under London.

Hagrid helped Melusine pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart." said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Melusine didn't know where to run first now that she had a bag full of money. She didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that she was holding more money than she'd had in her whole life — more money than even both her aunt and uncle had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Mel, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so she entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Melusine started to speak. "Got the lot here — another Hogwarts student, a young man is being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Melusine on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Melusine.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at clothes for herself," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I think I'll bully father into getting me one."

Melusine scrunched up her nose.

_Brat._

"Have _you _got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Melusine.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Melusine said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I _do — Father says it'd a crime if I hadn't been picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. What House are you in? I've never seen you before."

"Uh, I don't know. I'm new. In fact It's my first year." said Melusine, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"That's weird. Never met a new senior before. I'm in Slytherin house. Hope you get to be in it too. It's the best house there is."

There's a house named Slytherin?

"Mmm," said Melusine, wishing she could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man! It's Hagrid. What's _he_ doing here? Sort of a savage isn't he. Heh..." said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Melusine and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"I think he's brilliant," said Melusine coldly.

"_Do _you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Melusine shortly. She didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, "But they were _our _kind, weren't they?"

"Yes. They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before she could answer, Madam Malkin said, "There you go. Yer done, my dear," and Melusine, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, had hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Melusine was rather quiet as she ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought her (chocolate and strawberry with fudge topping).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Melusine lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Melusine cheered up a bit when she found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, she said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Melusine, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know — not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Melusine. She told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.

"— and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in —"

"Yer not _from _a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh _were _— he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what _is _Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like...like baseball in the Muggle world. Everyone follows Quidditch, played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls, sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School Houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but —"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Melusine gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. Besides your parents of course. And You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

They bought her school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hagrid almost had to drag Melusine away from _Curses and Counter- curses _(_Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More_) By: Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse people. Isn't that cool!"

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Hagrid wouldn't let Melusine buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), But they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Melusine, Melusine herself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Melusine's list again.

"Just yer wand left — oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present. Sorry I missed your birthday. You only turn into an adult once."

Melusine felt herself go red.

"You don't have to —"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at — an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

"No! No. Please get me a snake."

"A snake!? Why you wantin' a snake for? They're good for nuttin', trouble makin' slimy, creepy,-"

"Please!?"

"Eh, alright, alright. What kind are ye wantin'?"

"What kind do they have?"

"Well, we got regular snakes from the muggle world and then we have snakes from our world, I suppose all of em, pretty much every breed."

"What's the most dangerous one there?"

"Now, Melusine. Don't get any ideas."

"Oh, come one! Please!"

"Uh, well. It's not against the rules but...It's still dangerous."

"Aw, come on, Hagrid! I'll be careful. I have a special bond with snakes. Here. I'll tell ya what. If I can't bond with him you can get me an owl. Ok?"

"Oh, alright. I'll get ye the most dangerous one there, ye just better hope it don't bite me. Eh?"

"Yay." She clapped her hands together happily. "Get a boy one."

"A boy? That's even worse!"

"Please!"

"Alright, alright, ye go look around, kid. I'll be right back."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Melusine now carried a large snake, it was such a dark green it was almost black. It's eyes glowed yellow, It's pupils slit into a thin black line. It was about 13 ft. and about as wide as her thigh. The snake had bonded with her instantly, so there was no turning back now. She named him Naga. She couldn't stop stammering her thanks, sounding just like Professor Mane.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Just Ollivanders left now, only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand . . . this was what she had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382b.c. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Melusine felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Melusine jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Melusine awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Melusine Slytherin." It wasn't a question. "Although I expected you sooner, you're a bit old to be startin' your first year at Hogwarts. You have your father's eyes. It seems only yesterday he was in here himself, buying his first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Melusine. She wished she would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your mother, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your mother favored it but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Melusine were almost nose to nose. She could see herself reflected in those misty eyes.

He shook his head and then, to Melusine's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again. . . . Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er — yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't _use _them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Melusine noticed he gripped his red umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now — Ms. Slytherin. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er — well, I'm right-handed," said Melusine.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Slytherin. We use unicorn hairs, snake and dragon scales, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of giant dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same."

Melusine suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her small nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Ms. Slytherin. Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

She took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it."

She tried — but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Again she tried. And tried. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — 15 in. Wooden, Black, Elder. Covered in the strongest snake and dragon scales." It was dark green almost black. "Both, Dragon heartstring and Thestral tail hair. Extremely Bendy and Strong." It had a piercing black-metal tip. And a snake design, the handle itself was shaped into a hissing snake, baring It's fangs. "Go on give it a try."

Melusine took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of green, black, and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well . . . how curious . . . how very curious . . ."

He put Melusine's wand back into its box and wrapped it in green paper, still muttering, "Curious . . . curious . . ."

"Sorry," said Melusine, "But _what's _curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Melusine with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Slytherin. Every single wand. It so happens that the scales that are in your wand, came from a snake that gave It's scales to a different, but yet similar wand. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its 'brother' — why, its 'brother's' master tried to kidnap you that night."

Melusine swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yes. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. . . . I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. Slytherin. . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great. This, now this wand was once your ancestor, Salazar Slytherin's. Use it well, for you are his heir, his dream, child. Make him proud."

She shivered. She wasn't sure she liked Mr. Ollivander too much. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Melusine and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty Melusine didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; she didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the long, fat snake asleep on It's master's lap. And her owl asleep in It's cage. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Melusine only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped her on the shoulder.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.

He bought her a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. She kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You all right, Mel? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

She wasn't sure she could explain. She'd just had the best day of her life — and yet — She chewed her hamburger, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," She said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Mane, Mr. Ollivander . . . You. but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I don't even know exactly what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry — I mean, the night my parents died. And You-Know-Who tried to kidnap me."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Mel. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, 'smatter of fact."

Hagrid helped Melusine on to the train that would take her back to the Henderson's, then handed her an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September — King's Cross — it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Henderson's, send me a letter with yer owl, He'll know where to find me. . . . See yeh soon, Mel."

The train pulled out of the station. Melusine wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; she rose in her seat and pressed her nose against the window, but she blinked and Hagrid had gone.

Melusine's last month with the Henderson's wasn't fun. Aunt Mary and Uncle John didn't shut Melusine in her room, force her to do anything, or shout at her— in fact, they didn't speak to her at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Melusine in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.

She kept to her room, with her snake and new owl for company. She had decided to call him Thorntwig, a name she had found in _A History of Magic. _Her school books were very interesting. She lay on her bed reading late into the night, Thorntwig swooping in and out of the open window as he pleased. And her snake, Naga, wrapped around her body, loosely, sleeping. It was lucky that Aunt Mary didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Thorntwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, but that was fine, Naga was happy to eat them. Melusine ticked off another day on the piece of paper she had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.

On the last day of August she thought she'd better speak to her aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so she went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. She cleared her throat to let them know she was there. "Er — Uncle, um, Uncle John?"

John grunted to show he was listening.

"Er — I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to...to go to Hogwarts."

John grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. Melusine supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

She was about to go back upstairs when John actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Melusine didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Melusine, realizing this for the first time. She pulled the ticket Hagrid had given her out of her pocket.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," She read.

Her aunt and uncle stared. "Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said John. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"Its on my ticket."

"Barking," said John, "Howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" She asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking my sister to the hospital," Growled John. "Got to get rid of that wretched food poisoning."

Melusine woke up at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. She got up and pulled on her black and green sweater dress she had bought down at Diagon Ally because she didn't want to walk into the station in her wizard's robes — She'd change on the train. She checked her Hogwarts list yet again to make sure she had everything she needed, saw that Thorntwig was shut safely in his cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Henderson's to get up. Two hours later, Melusine's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Henderson's car. Snake loosely around her neck and body, sleeping.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. John dumped Melusine's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for her. Melusine thought this was strangely kind, considering how angry he was at her, until Uncle John stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine — platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

Her snake, Naga, slithered out from under his cage, hissing at John.

"Eek! G-Get that nasty thing away from me!"

She did, tucking him away, back into his cage.

"Have a good term," Grunted Uncle John with an even nastier smile. But still wary of the poisonous snake not so far from him. He left without another word. Melusine turned and saw the Henderson's drive away. All two of them. Melusine's mouth went rather dry. What on earth was she going to do? She was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Naga and Thorntwig. She'd have to ask someone.

She stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when she couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though she was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, she asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. She was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, she had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and she had no idea how to do it; she was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk she could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl and snake.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell her something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. She wondered if she should get out her wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind her and she caught a few words of what they were saying.

"— packed with Muggles, of course, as always. —"

Melusine swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to one boy and one girl, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like her's in front of them— and they had an _owl._

Heart hammering, Melusine pushed her cart after them. They stopped and so did she, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped the girl, about her age.

"Good job, Ginny. you go first."

The girl marched toward platforms nine and ten. She watched, careful not to blink in case she missed it — but just as the girl reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of her and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the girl had vanished.

"Ron, you next," the plump woman said.

"Alright. I'll tell Harry you said hi, mum." said the boy, around her age.

Harry? Harry Potter?

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Melusine said to the plump woman.

"Hello, deary," she said. "Going to Hogwarts for your seventh year? Ron is too." She pointed at Ron one of her kids. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"Uh, no. Not exactly. I, well, this is my first time at Hogwarts." said Melusine.

"What!? Really!? But you should be a senior by now!"

"I-I know, but...The thing is — the thing is, I don't know how to um—"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Melusine nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now, before Ron."

"Er — okay," said Melusine.

She pushed her trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

She started to walk toward it. People jostled her on their way to platforms nine and ten. She walked more quickly. She was going to smash right into that barrier and then she'd be in trouble, leaning forward on her cart, she broke into a heavy run. The barrier was coming nearer and nearer, she wouldn't be able to stop, the cart was out of control, she was a foot away, she closed her eyes ready for the crash...

It didn't come . . . she kept on running . . . she opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Melusine looked behind her and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters _on it. _She had done it._

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Melusine pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville,_" She heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid off a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Melusine pressed on through the crowd until she found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Thorntwig inside first and then started to shove and heave her trunk toward the train door. She tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice she dropped it painfully on her foot.

"Want a hand?" It was a red-headed boy, older then her.

"Yes, please," Melusine panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

Another red-headed boy, they were twins. Came over. With their help, Melusine's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Melusine, pushing her pretty blonde hair out of her green eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at her pet snake, Naga.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Is that— ?"

"It _is,_" said the first twin. "Isn't it?" he added.

"What?" said Melusine.

"That's the most dangerous snake in the whole world, muggle and magical. How did you afford that!?" chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Melusine. "I had a lot of money in the bank, my parents must have really cared about me."

"Never mind the money, why on earth would you even get him!?"

The snake moved forward, towards the boys.

"Woah, keep him a good distance away from us. We don't want to die."

The other twin chuckled. "Yeah. I don't think death would be a good color on either of us."

She nodded, tucking away her snake.

The two boys kept gawking at her, and Melusine felt herself turning red. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?'

"Coming, Mom!"

With a last look at Melusine, the twins hopped off the train.  
She sat down next to the window where, half hidden, she could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose...again."

The boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"_Mom _— g-geroff." He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Melusine noticed a shiny red and gold badge on his chest with the letter _P _on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves —"

"Oh, are you a _prefect, _Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin.

"Once —"

"Or twice —"

"A minute —"

"All summer —"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a _prefect,_" said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term — send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.  
"Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've — you've blown up a toilet or —"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's _not funny. _And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys and the girl clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." Said her mother.

Both of the twins laughed. "We'll send you a Hogwarts, Gryffindor, toilet seat."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Melusine saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, waving back.

Melusine watched the mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Melusine felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to — but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red- headed boy came in with another girl and boy.

"Anyone sitting there?" They asked, pointing at the seat opposite of Melusine. "Everywhere else is full."

Melusine shook her head and the students sat down. The boy, named Ron, glanced at Melusine and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Melusine saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there. It's even bigger then the last one!"

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Hey." said the other twin to Melusine, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Melusine and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"What's your name?" Ron blurted out.

Melusine smiled.

"Melusine. Melusine Slytherin."

Everyone of their eyes widened.

"_The_ Melusine Slytherin?"

"Uh, yes. I suppose so."

"Wow!"

"So...uh, You-Know-Who really tried to kidnap you?"

"Yes," said Melusine, "But I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Asked Ron eagerly.

"Well — I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, "You didn't remember anything either, did you Harry?"

"No. Not really. Just like Melusine said, I too, only remember a green light."

"Wicked...Do you suppose he can come back...you know? Through her?"

The girl spoke up. "Enough Ron! Don't scare her. I'm Hermione by the way. Hermione Granger. Ron's girlfriend. And this is Harry Potter, as I'm sure you know."

Melusine nodded, and smiled. "Yes. Nice to meet you. Are all your family wizards?"

"Er — yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"Yeah. I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle aren't though. At least, they didn't use to be. I wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. She looked down quickly, no one noticed, but her snake, Naga, was eyeing Ron's rat hungrily.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff— I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Melusine didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, she'd never had any money in her life until a month ago, and she told Ron so, This seemed to cheer Ron up.

". . . and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or Voldemort —"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Melusine.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name_!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people —"

"Ron! We've all said his name before, what's so bad about saying it now?" Asked Harry.

"W-Well he could..you know, come back. Like we could jinx it or something..."

"That's ridiculous!" Piped up Hermione. "Go on, Melusine."

"I'm not trying to be _brave _or anything, saying the name, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn. . . . I bet," She added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying her a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

"Harry here didn't know anything either. Hagrid also came to him and told him everything. And look at him now. He defeated Voldemort. And even died and came back to life. He saved us all."

"_We_ defeated Voldemort." Corrected Harry, smiling.

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Melusine, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to her feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches like always. Harry went out into the corridor to pay for the whole lot, but Melusine stopped him, paying for the whole trolly herself instead.

She had never had any money for candy with the Henderson's. They always bought stuff for her. It was nice being able to pay for your own things. Ron stared as Melusine brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Melusine, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Melusine, holding up a pasty. "Go on —"

"You don't want this, its all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "You know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Melusine, It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, and his friends, eating their way through all of Melusine's pasties, cakes, and candies (The sandwiches lay forgotten).

"What are these?" Melusine asked Harry, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not _really _frogs, are they?" She was starting to feel that nothing would surprise her.

"No," said Harry as Ron and Hermione chuckled.

"Let's see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa." Ron said.

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Melusine unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. He looked familiar.

"So _this _is Dumbledore!" said Melusine.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa, thanks "

Melusine turned over her card and read: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE currently headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Melusine turned the card back over and saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron.

"He'll be back. No! I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her . . . do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Melusine. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "_Weird _!"

Melusine stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave her a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Melusine couldn't keep her eyes off them. Soon she had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. She unwrapped another Chocolate Frog but this one caught her attention. It was a new one, but that's not what interested her. It was the man inside.

**Professor Severus Snape:** Is a half-blood wizard aka The Half-Blood Prince, who is the son of the witch Eileen Snape (Hence Prince.) And muggle Tobias Snape. Severus Snape is Potions master, Defense against the Dark Arts Professor of the upper classmen, and is head of the Slytherin House at Hogwarts. (which he attended as a student). He is also a member of the Order of the Phoenix and played a very important role in both of the Wizarding Wars against Lord Voldemort.

Species: Human/Wizard

Gender: Male

Hair: Black

Eyes: Black

Skin: Caucasian, pale

Born: 9, January 1960.  
Spinners end, Cokeworth

Age: 40

Height: 6 ft. 4 in.

Weight: 190 Pounds

Blood status: Half-Blood

Marital status: Single

Patronus: Unknown

Wand: Unknown

She finally tore her eyes away from Severus Snape, who was staring at her intently. And began to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned her. "When they say every flavor, they _mean _every flavor. You know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh — see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Melusine got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Melusine had passed on platform nine and three- quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "But have you seen a toad at all?"

"Again, really?" Harry rolled his eyes.

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him . . .Tell me." He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy this time.

Three boys entered, and Melusine recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at her with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Melusine Slytherin's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Melusine. She was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where she was looking. "And my names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"What's so funny, Ron?" He turned back to Melusine. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Melusine's, but she didn't take it. Just like Harry didn't his first year.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," She said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you." he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry, Hermione and Ron stood up.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Melusine, more bravely then the others.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron — Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Melusine's snake had scared him, and he fainted.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Naga. "Scared the bloody hell outta him."

The two other boys ran off at the sight of the poisonous snake.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Harry asked.

Melusine explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"You heard of his family?" Asked Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Before his defeat, that night he tried to kill Harry and kidnap you. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad never believed them. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side. And he was right. After they found out he was working with You-Know-Who they put them in jail, but let Draco go."

Hermione piped up. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Would you mind leaving while we change?" Hermione asked.

"Sure." Said Ron, Harry followed behind them. Going to change elsewhere.

Hermione stopped Ron. "And you've got dirt on your nose again, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as he left. Remembering when he had first met her. Melusine peered out of the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

She and Hermione took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Melusine's stomach lurched with nerves and Hermione, she saw, looked pale under her long brown hair. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Melusine shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Melusine heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Melusine?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, she followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that she thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. She got into the boat with Hagrid and two other first years.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, "Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was check- ing the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, light grey-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Melusine's first thought of the woman was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Henderson's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Melusine could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

She cleared her throat softly. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Melusine. They seemed to glisten. A small smiled twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Melusine swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" She asked a nearby student.

"Some sort of test, I think. My older brother said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Melusine's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But she didn't know any magic yet — what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except a student that reminded her of Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Melusine tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she'd had to take a school report home to the Henderson's saying that she'd somehow turned her teacher's wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.

Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air — several people behind her screamed.

"What the — ?"

She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he de- serves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "And follow me."

Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Melusine got into the line behind a boy with sandy hair, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Melusine had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candle- light. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, probably wondering why an eighteen year old was amongst the first years. Melusine looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper from below at a table, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. You can read about it in _Hogwarts, A History..._"

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Melusine quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Mary wouldn't have let it in the house.

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, _Melusine thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see._

_I'll eat myself if you can find, __A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see._

_So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. _

_You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin, You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means, To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap_!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished it's song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" A boy whispered to another.

"I'll kill Gary, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Melusine smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, or wrestle a troll. but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Melusine didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a House for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Melusine saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Melusine could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Melusine's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought they looked like a pleasant lot.

She was starting to feel definitely sick now. She remembered being picked for teams during gym at her old school.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, she noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.

"Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Melusine in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

A horrible thought struck Melusine, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train?

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon" . . . , "Nott" . . . , "Parkinson" . . . , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" . . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne" . . . , and then, at last —

"Slytherin, Melusine!"

As Melusine stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Slytherin, _did she say?"

"_The _Melusine Slytherin?"

The last thing Melusine saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting, Beautiful, yes, so very beautiful. . And such strength! ... So where shall I put you?"

Melusine gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Just put me somewhere I belong. Somewhere I'm appreciated. _

The hat spoke again. "You could be great, you know, its all here in your head, and I know just who will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — better be...SLYTHERIN!"

Melusine heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table. She was so relieved to have been chosen and put in Slytherin, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Penny the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Conner twins yelled, "We got Slytherin! We got Slytherin!" Melusine sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Melusine the sudden, horrible feeling she'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Melusine grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. She recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Melusine spotted Professor Mane, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large green turban. And there, not far from her, sat Professor Severus Snape who was looking at her very intently. With a weird expression plastered on his face. He seemed to be in a daze. Melusine blushed at turned back to the sorting hat just as the last kid was sorted.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Melusine looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Melusine didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" She asked Penny uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Penny airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Mel?"

Her mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Henderson's had never exactly starved her, not at all. but she'd never been allowed to eat as much as she liked. Melusine piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Melusine cut up her steak.

"Can't you — ?"

"No. I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said a first year suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer _you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly _Headless? How can you be _nearly _headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like _this,_" he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but had not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Slytherins! Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

They all looked at The Bloody Baron. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding . . .

As Melusine helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

Melusine, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Mane, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. Professor Snape.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Mane's turban straight into Melusine's huge, bright, green, eyes, she blushed, looking away quickly.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Mane?" A first year asked Penny.

"Oh, you know Mane already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Melusine watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Melusine giggled quietly, but she was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" She muttered to Penny.

"Must be," said Penny, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Melusine noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Except for Snape. He wasn't smiling at all.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot._"

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase.

Slytherin first years followed Penny out of the Great Hall up the same staircase. Melusine's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Penny led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Melusine was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Penny took a step toward them they started throwing them- selves at him.

"Peeves," Penny whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Penny.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Penny's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Penny, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a green silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Pure-Bloods," said Penny, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Slytherin common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy green armchairs, and walls decorated in skulls.

Penny directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the dungeons— they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with jade green, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, wasn't it?" A girl, one of Melusine's roommates, muttered to her through the hangings.

Perhaps Melusine had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. She was wearing Professor Mane's green turban, which kept talking to him. It got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as she struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became a low sad cry. There was a burst of green light and Melusine woke, sweating and shaking.

She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke the next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.

There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the black hair."

"Wearing the green sweater dress, with the blonde hair?"

"Did you see her face? Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Beautiful, yes. But did you see her snake? Scary isn't he?"

Whispers followed Melusine from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. She wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Melusine was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Malfoy and his bodyguards managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Mane, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins and Professor Snape.) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Except for Melusine who always petted her when she walked by.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Melusine quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. But Melusine loved that class, she respected plants like people.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Melusine's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Melusine had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Melusine had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Melusine a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Mane's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Mane had fought off the zombie, Mane went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Mane was protected wherever he went.

Melusine was very relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Melusine and Harry. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Melusine asked Harry as she poured sugar on her porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we'll be able to see if it's true. Uh, no offense."

"None taken."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Melusine had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Thorntwig hadn't brought Melusine anything so far. He sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, how- ever, he fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto her plate. She tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,  
I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Thorntwig.  
~Hagrid

Melusine borrowed Harry's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later _on the back of the note, and sent Thorntwig off again.

At the start-of-term banquet, Melusine had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. By the end of the first Potions lesson, she knew she'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike her. He actually _hated _her.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Melusine's name.

"Ah, _yes,_" he said softly, "Melusine Slytherin. Our new _celebrity._"

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. And much to their surprise, Snape flashed them a warning glare. He finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they held none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Or worse, _death_.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, his voice deep and nasally, his british accent as thick as mud. but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. He scared the students shitless but not Melusine. She found him very interesting. And it seemed he felt the same way about her.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Melusine was ready to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Melusine!" snapped Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The class stared at her, waiting for an answer.

Snape continued. "And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Melusine forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold, calculating eyes. She had looked through her books at the Henderson's, And remembered every word.

He asked another question, adding it to the rest. "What is the difference, Melusine, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

She smirked and began her answer. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

Everyone was staring, eyes wide.

"I'm not the only one in this class, though, So why don't you try someone else, instead of glaring at me because I dented your ego? Or do you like being an insufferable know-it-all that picks out the student that will most likely get his questions wrong, seeing as I just found out yesterday I was even a witch."

A few people laughed; Melusine caught Seamus' eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Shut up," he snapped at the laughing class. "Well? She answered it correctly. Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Slytherin House for your cheek, Melusine."

The Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except, to her surprise, Melusine. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way she had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Seamus had somehow managed to melt his cauldron into a twisted blob, and his potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while, Seamus, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Seamus whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at a sophomore. Then he rounded on Melusine, who had been working next to them.

"You — Melusine— why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Slytherin. And don't push it, It's hard enough taking points from my own team. Pull yourself together, girl."

This was so unfair that Melusine opened her mouth to argue, but her partner kicked her behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Melusine's mind was racing and her spirits were low. She'd lost two points for Slytherin in her very first week, — _why _did Snape hate her so much?

"Cheer up," said Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George and me. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang — _back._"

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "_Back, _Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Harry and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"Glad to see ya, Hagrid." Harry told him, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Glad to see ya too, Harry. My have you grown. The both of ya are all grown up." said Hagrid, a tear in his eye, glancing at both of them then back at the food he was preparing. The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Melusine pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons of the year. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry, and Melusine, were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git''

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it."

Melusine told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Harry, told her not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _hate _me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Melusine couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

As Harry and Melusine walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse.

Melusine had never believed she would meet a boy she hated more than Jake, a boy who stood her up once in high school. but that was before she met Draco Malfoy. She spotted a notice pinned up in the Slytherin common room that made her groan inwardly. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday — and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. Both houses were like arch enemies, no doubt going to be yelling at each other the whole time. Again she would have to hear Malfoy's yippity yappity mouth go on and on how he was better then everyone.

"Typical," said Melusine darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than any- thing else. Not anymore...

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Harry, with Ron and Hermione nodding reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but that's all talk. Trust me. I've beat him more times then I can count."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly, and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Melusine hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother once. It had been a Remembrall. He explained. "Gran knows I forget things. It tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Neville explained that in his first year he had been trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who always bullied him, had tried to steal it from him.

Malfoy, that good for nothing son-of-a...

At three-thirty that afternoon, Melusine, and the other Slytherins hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Gryffindors were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Melusine had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Melusine glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!' "

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Melusine's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. One of the other's had simply rolled over on the ground, and another's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Melusine; there was a quaver in Seamus' voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Melusine was delighted when she said her's was perfect.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.— three — two —one!" She blew her whistle.

Melusine pushed off of the ground, rose a few feet, floated there for a couple of minutes then landed back down, softly, no problems at all.

For the others it was a different story. She was the only one to even get off the ground, let alone fly.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Melusine thought, as she lay awake much later listening to her roommates falling asleep. Ron had spent all evening giving her advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." Referring to Malfoy and his hatred for her. (If he ever tried anything. But It's highly unlikely he would. At least not in public.)

She got up and walked down the hall, out of the dormitory, knowing fully well she was breaking the rules.

After about an hour of walking around aimlessly, something came shooting out of a classroom in front of her.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of her and gave a quiet squeal of delight.

"Shush, Peeves — please — you'll get me thrown out."

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsty? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give me away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Snape, I should," said Peeves in a sanity voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Fine. Be that way. What'd I ever do to you? Get out of the way," Melusine snapped, taking a swipe at Peeves —this was a big mistake.

"STUDENT OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENT OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR! SLYTHERIN STUDENT IS OUT OF BED!"

Ducking under Peeves, she ran for her life, right to the end of the corridor where she slammed into a door — and it was locked.

"This is it!" Melusine moaned, as she pushed helplessly at the door, "I'm done for! This is the end!"

She could hear footsteps, Snape was running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, come on move, door, move!" Melusine snarled. She grabbed the knob once more and gave it a yank. The door didn't budge. She could hear Snape talking around the corner.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Snape was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.' "

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right — _please._"

"Down that way." And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Snape cursing in rage, footsteps coming closer, and closer.

She groped for the doorknob, yanking again. Between her and safety was a stupid door that wouldn't budge. And Snape was almost there.

She looked around, closed her eyes, and sighed. Excepting her fate. It was her fault. She knew she could get caught. But she'd rather be caught by Mrs. Norris then Snape.

Snape rounded the corner, shocked at what he found.

"...Slytherin...?"

Melusine fidgeted her thumbs nervously.

"Heh, heh. Hi...Professor Snape..."

"And what do you think you're doing here?"

"Uh, looking for the...the, um...Nurses office. You do have a nurses office right?"

"Oh? And why do you need to go to the nurse?"

"I'm uh, feeling very faint." She looked around nervously, then back over to Snape. No harm in giving it a try. She put her arm to her forehead and dramatically swayed back and forth. "Oh, It's happening again." She 'fainted' Hoping to fool the professor.

Snape walked over to her swiftly, lifting her up into his arms. At first Melusine thought he was going to carry her, but was disappointed when he slapped her face. Not hard, but enough to sting.

"Get up you ninny!"

Her eyes fluttered open, she gave a disappointed sigh as he dropped her back onto the floor.

"What kind of fool to you take me for?!"

"It was worth a shot."

"Your acting skills are horrible. Get up."

"Erm...Fine..."

Melusine got up, brushing off her nightie. It was short, and tight fitting. It had green lace across the neckline and bottom line. The rest was black.

She was embarrassed to be seen this exposed.

Snape looked at her, then averted his eyes. "I...Won't expel you this time... Just get back to bed and...And cover up!"

"Yes sir. Thank you. I promise I won't do it again."

She rushed passed Snape, blushing, back to her room.

At least she wasn't expelled. But now every time she'd see him it would be all...awkward.

She didn't stop running until she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you been?" she asked, looking at Melusine's nightie's straps hanging off her shoulders and her flushed, sweaty face.

Melusine shook her head quickly. "Never mind that —Pure-Blood, Pure-Blood.," She panted, and the portrait swung forward. She scrambled into the common room past the armchairs and up the stairs to the girl's dormitory into her own bedroom. She kept quiet and got into her bed, going to sleep a couple of minutes later.

**_Naga, pet snake: Naga is her male pet snake. The worl'ds (Non magical and muggle) Most dangerous and most poisonous snake. 13 ft. long. And as wide as Melusine's thigh. Dark green. (So dark He's almost black.) Sharp, long, fangs. And large yellow eyes with black slitted-pupils. No markings on body._**

**_Thorntwig her pet owl: Male, and dark brown, shaded mostly with black. Yellow eyes. Black feet, black talons. And a large black beak._**

**_Author's note: Quite a lot of the first chapter is taken from the book and altered. I mean no copyright! I promise! Please bare with me. Soon I won't be using the books. I just needed a storyline. And for you to know where this takes place. She sort of takes Harry's place in the book, at least when it comes to her origin story, sort of. Just bare with me. I love you J.K Rowling. And Alan Rickman! I promise you I mean to harm, or copyright._**

Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, of number ten, Onyx Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Henderson was the owner of a firm called Drilling Co, which made drills. He was a tall, thin man with a thin beard and a shaved head. Mrs. Henderson was thin and blonde and was nearly twice as tall as her husband, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Henderson's had no children but often talked about adopting. The Henderson's had everything they wanted, except a child. A _normal_ child. For they held a nasty secret.

They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about Mrs. Henderson's sister. Mrs. Slytherin, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Henderson pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unHendersonish as it was possible to be. The Henderson's shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Slytherin's arrived in the street. The Henderson's knew that the Slytherin's had a small daughter too, but they had never even seen her. They hoped to god she wasn't like _them_. Not their niece, please. not their own niece.

When Mr. and Mrs. Henderson woke up on a dull, gray friday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Henderson hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Henderson gossiped away happily as she cooked in the kitchen. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Henderson picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Henderson on the cheek, and got into his car, backing out of number ten's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Henderson didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Onyx Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Henderson blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Henderson drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Onyx Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Henderson gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town, he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Henderson couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Henderson was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Henderson that this was probably some silly stunt — these people were obviously collecting for something . . . Yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Henderson arrived in the Drilling Co parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Henderson always sat with his back to the window in his office on the tenth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Henderson, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at ten different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a donut from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large donut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Slytherin's, that's right, that's what I heard —"

"— yes, their daughter, Melusine—"

Mr. Henderson stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his beard, thinking . . . No, he was being stupid. Slytherin wasn't such an unusual name. Was it? He was sure there were lots of people called Slytherin who had a daughter called Melusine. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece was called Melusine. He'd never even seen the girl. It might have been Madison. Or Megan. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Henderson; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that . . . but all the same, those people in cloaks . . .

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Henderson realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby's stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! And the baby girl is going to be safe from now on, there's no coming back for him, nope, nope, nope. Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Henderson around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Henderson stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number ten, the first thing he saw — and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Henderson loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Henderson wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Henderson had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how she had learned something new about them. Mr. Henderson tried to act normally. When they were done eating, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGruffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Henderson sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Slytherin's. . .

Mrs. Henderson came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er —Mary, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Henderson looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Henderson mumbled. "Owls . . . shooting stars . . . and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today . . ."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Henderson.

"Well, I just thought . . . maybe . . . it was something to do with...you know... _her_ crowd."

Mrs. Henderson sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Henderson wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Slytherin." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their daughter— she'd be about The neighbor's kid's age now, wouldn't she?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Henderson stiffly.

"What's her name again? Madison, isn't it?"

"Melusine. Nasty, weird, uncommon name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Henderson, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs

to bed. While Mrs. Henderson was in the bathroom, Mr. Henderson crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Onyx Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Slytherin's? If it did . . . if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Henderson's got into bed. Mrs. Henderson fell asleep quickly but Mr. Henderson lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Slytherin's were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Henderson. The Slytherin's knew very well what he and Mary thought about them and their kind. . . . He couldn't see how he and Mary could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect them. . . .

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Henderson might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Onyx Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Onyx Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His grey/blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Henderson, wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number ten, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing curved, black, glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her dark grey hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Henderson's dark living-room window.

"I heard it. Flocks of owls . . . shooting stars. . . . Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You- Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.

"It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too — well — noble to use them."

"It's lucky its dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "Is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James . . . I can't believe it . . . I didn't want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . ."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know . . . I know . . ." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But — he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's — it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done . . . all the people he's killed . . . he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know. I've delivered him to his aunt and uncle. The Dursleys. He shall be safe there."

"And they're also saying he's killed...that he's killed...Oh god, tell me, Albus! Did he kill the Slytherin's?"

"Yes..."

"What about the baby?"

"Melusine is safe. Both children are safe."

"Oh thank god!"

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late again. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Slytherin's heir to her aunt and uncle. Do you know what Voldemort would do if he got his hands on her? She could be the worlds most powerful witch when she's older. If he's truly gone because of Harry, then I'm sure he's looking for a way to come back. And that's through her. Slytherin's only heir. This is her only hope to maybe living a normal life, with her muggle family."

"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number ten.

"Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. She can't possibly live here!"

"It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous — a legend —every child in our world will know her name! Just like Harry will! The sole survivor of the Slytherin's. Possibly the only way Voldemort can return."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Can't you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the girl getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Melusine underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing her."

"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "But you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, but it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild _— long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of green blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got her, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got her out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. She fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep.

"Well — give her here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Melusine in his arms and turned toward the Henderson's house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to her, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Melusine and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" Hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it — Her mother and father are dead — an' poor little Melusine's off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, its all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Melusine gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Melusine's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, a tear rolling down her cheek. And the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

Even though they've only knew the little bundle of joy for a year, they had fell in love with her.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "That's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Onyx Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number ten.

"Good luck, Melusine," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Onyx Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Melusine Slytherin rolled over inside her blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on, not knowing she was special, not knowing she was famous, not knowing she would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Henderson's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, She couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Melusine Slytherin— May she live a life full of happiness and safety and grow up to be a powerful witch!"

Nearly eighteen years had passed since the Henderson's had woken up to find their niece on the front step, but they had moved, but nothing much had changed at all. The sun rose on the tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number twelve on the Henderson's front door; it crept into their living room, which was decorated almost exactly the same as it had been at the old house, on the night when Mr. Henderson had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Seventeen years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a small pink baby doll wearing different-colored bows— but Melusine Slytherin was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a beautiful blond girl riding her first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with her 'father', being hugged and kissed by her 'mother.' The room held no sign at all that the girl known as Melusine Slytherin, now Melusine Henderson, was adopted.

Yet Melusine Slytherin was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Her 'mother' Mary was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Honey, Now!"

Melusine woke with a start. Her 'mother' rapped on the door again.

"Up! baby, up!" She screeched. Melusine heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. She had a funny feeling she'd had the same dream before.

Her 'mother' was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Melusine.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look perfect. And don't you dare go back to sleep, I want everything perfect on your birthday."

Melusine groaned.

"What did you say?" Her 'mother' snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing . . ."

Her birthday — how could she have forgotten? Melusine got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. she found a pair in her dresser and put them on.

When she was dressed she went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all of her birthday presents. It looked as though she had gotten the new computer she wanted, not to mention the second television and the new wardrobe. They spoiled her too much. She hated that.

Melusine was tall for her age. She had a thin face, a filled out, fit figure, and light blonde hair, The only thing she liked about her own appearance was her bright green eyes. Although everyone told her she was the most beautiful girl they've ever met. She never believed them. She always asked her mother where she was born, because she didn't sound like them.

"In England. Like us." she had said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions _— that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Henderson's.

Her 'father' entered the kitchen as Melusine was turning over the bacon, helping her 'mother'.

"You both look beautiful!" He smiled.

She and her 'mother' smiled back, as he kissed them both on the cheek.

Melusine put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. She looked over to the living room, counting her presents.

"Thirty-six," she said, looking up at her 'mother' and 'father'.

"Why do you always spend so much money on me? You know I'm content with just spending time with you."

At that moment the telephone rang and Mary went to answer it. While she unwrapped her presents, a video camera, sixteen new computer games, and a new computer. She was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when her 'mother' came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, John," She said. "Mrs. Fin's broken her leg. She can't take her." She jerked her head in Melusine's direction.

John's mouth fell open in horror, but Melusine's heart gave a leap. Every year on her birthday, her parents took her to Mrs. Fin's, a family friend, and she spoils her rotten with cookies and cakes, she was sick of being spoiled, it bothered her. "Now what?" said Mary, Melusine knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Fin had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded himself it would be whole year before she would get over that sugar rush.

"I suppose we could take her to the zoo this time," said her 'mother' slowly. ". . . and buy her a bunch of candy. . . ."

"Yeah, we could do that."

They drove to the zoo in silence. When they got there, her 'father' turned around to speak to her.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Melusine's, "I'm warning you now, hun— any funny business, anything at all come and get us, ok? If anything, uh, weird happens, as always ignore it and come to us. Ok?"

"Nothing's going to happen this time, dad." said Melusine, "Honestly . . . I don't even know how I caught that person on fire, I didn't have a match or anything."

"I know, I know you don't. It wasn't your fault ok, you didn't do anything."

The problem was, strange things often happened around Melusine and it was just no good telling the Henderson's she thought she really was making them happen. They kept telling her she was normal, that everything was normal. And nothing was her fault.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. She'd make sure of it.

While he drove, John complained to Mary. He liked to complain about things: people at work, the council, the bank, This morning, it was motorcycles.

". . . roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Melusine, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Her 'father' nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Melusine, his face like a gigantic beet with a beard: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

"I-I know they don't," said Melusine. "It was only a dream."

But she wished she hadn't said anything. If there was one thing her parents hated even more than her asking questions about family, it was her talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think she might get dangerous ideas or beliefs.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Henderson's bought Melusine a large chocolate ice cream at the entrance.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. A buff teenage boy, around Melusine's age, wanted to see the huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Melusine followed, interested to see the snakes also. She had always had a bond with the huge reptiles. He quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around her 'father's' car and crushed it into a trash can — but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

The boy stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening green coils.

"Come on you stupid snake, move!" He yelled at it through the thick glass. He tapped on it, but the snake didn't budge.

"Come on!" He ordered. He rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," He moaned, and shuffled away.

Melusine scowled at the ignorant, spoiled boy, and moved in front of the tank, looking intently at the snake. She wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were level with Melusine's.

_It winked._

Melusine stared. Snakes can't wink, could they? They had no eyelids. But she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward the teenage boy that had been trying to wake him up so rudely, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Melusine a look that said quite plainly:

"_I get that all the time._"

"I know," She murmured through the glass, though she wasn't sure the snake could hear her. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Melusine asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Melusine peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Melusine read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind her made both of them jump. "MIKE! MR. MUMFRY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE _WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Mike, the same teenage boy from earlier, came running towards them and his friend, as fast as he could.

"Excuse me, Ms." He said, pushing past Melusine, caught by surprise, she fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, The boy and his father were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Melusine sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past her, Melusine heard a low, hissing voice say, "Brazil, here I come. . . . Thanksss, encanto."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "Where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made the boy's mother a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Melusine stayed, the boy, Mike, kept apologizing for shoving her to the floor, putting her in danger when the snake escaped. Him and his father and friend could only gibber. As far as Melusine had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in her 'father's' car, Her 'father', John was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while her 'mother' was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Melusine at least, was her 'mother' calming down enough to say, "Melusine was talking to it, weren't you, Honey?"

Her 'father' waited until they were in the house before starting on Melusine. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go—Bed — stay —Wait," before he collapsed into a chair, and her 'mother' had to run and get him a large brandy.

She lay on her soft bed much later, wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure her parents were asleep yet. They would be coming up sooner or later. What did she do to be in so much trouble?!

When she had been younger, Melusine had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take her away, but it had never happened; the Henderson's, her 'mother' and 'father' were her only family. Yet sometimes she thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know her. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to her once while out shopping with her 'mother' and 'father'. After asking Melusine furiously if she knew the man, her 'mother' had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at her once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken her hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Melusine tried to get a closer look.

At school, Melusine had no friends. Sure the guys tried to get in her pants, and she would beat them up and tell them to get lost, sure the popular girls wanted her as a friend, but after she dissed them, knowing they were no good, they bullied her, but learnt their lesson after she beat the shit out of their leader, Brittany. Everybody knew that the popular gang hated that odd Melusine Henderson in her cute little skirts and dresses, her long blonde hair, and her fascination with reptiles. And nobody liked to disagree with the popular gang. But when it came to her, they did so without question. Everyone liked her, except the people who were jealous.

She never felt she was worthy being jealous of, she was a very selfless person, always sacrificed her happiness for others.

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Melusine her longest-ever punishment. By the time she was allowed out of her bedroom again, the summer holidays had started. But she couldn't understand it. She hadn't done anything, had she?

Melusine was glad school was over, but there was no escaping her parent's friends that always came over. This was why she spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where she could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came she would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in her life, she wouldn't be with her overprotective parents all the time. She was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. The first time she had ever been out of private school.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," Her 'father' told Melusine. "Be careful, Ok?"

"I will, thanks," said Melusine.

"And don't let any boys touch you."

"I won't, I won't. I promise. I'll be fine, dad. Love you."

"I love you too." Her 'father' kissed her on her forehead before she left.

That evening, she paraded around the living room for the family in her brand-new uniform. Stonewall's girl's wore green sweater dresses and black flats. As she looked at her 'mother' and 'father' in her new outfit, Her 'father', John said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Her 'mother', Mary, burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her little Mel, she looked so beautiful. She had grown up so fast. Melusine didn't trust herself to speak. She thought two of her ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. This was so stupid.

The next morning she went downstairs for breakfast, her 'mother' and 'father' were already down there, reading the paper, and cooking.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Mary," said her 'father' from behind his paper.

"You go get it, honey. I'm cooking."

"Get the mail, Melusine, dear."

"Ok."

Melusine got up and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from her 'father' to his sister Cornelia, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and — _a letter for Melusine._

She picked it up and stared at it, her heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no real friends, no other relatives — she didn't belong to the library, so she'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. It read:

Ms. Melusine Henderson. Aka Melusine Slytherin  
12 Mangrove Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

Slytherin?

Turning the envelope over, her hand trembling, Melusine saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H_._

"Hurry up, baby!" shouted her 'father' from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Melusine went back to the kitchen, still staring at her letter. She handed her 'father' the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Her 'father; ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Cornelia's ill," he informed Mary "Ate some funny shrimp. . ."

"Honey!" said her 'mother' suddenly. "Honey, Melusine's got something!"

Melusine was on the point of unfolding her letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of her hand by her 'father'.

"Hey, dad! That's _mine_!" said Melusine, trying to snatch it back.

"Let me read it first." Yelled her 'father', shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"M-M-Mary!" He gasped.

Melusine tried to grab the letter to read it, but her 'father' held it high out of her reach. Her 'mother', Mary, took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"John! Oh my goodness —John!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Melusine was still in the room.

"_I _want to read it," said Melusine furiously, "As it's _mine._"

"No. Go to your room, now!" croaked her 'father', stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Melusine didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" She shouted. "Let _me _see it!" She demanded loudly.

"OUT!" roared her 'father', and he took her by the scruff of her neck and threw her into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Melusine stopped, and listen through the keyhole.

"John," Her 'mother'; was saying in a quivering voice, "Look at the address — how could they possibly know where we live? We moved, remember? You don't think they're watching the house? Us?"

"Watching — spying — might be following us," muttered her 'father' wildly.

"But what should we do, John? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want—"

Melusine could see her 'father's' shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer. . . . Yes, that's best . . . we won't do anything. . . ."

"But —"

"I'm not having one in the house, Mary! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense? Raise her as our own! She'll never know, it's the perfect plan!"

Raise her as their own? Never know? What was her 'father; talking about!? Weren't they her parents?

That evening when he got back from work, John Henderson visited Melusine, upstairs in her room. Not knocking before he came in.

"Where's my letter?" said Melusine, the moment her 'father' had walked through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said her 'father' shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was _not _a mistake," said Melusine angrily, "It had my name and address on it!"

"SILENCE!" yelled her 'father', He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Why? Why won't you tell me what's going on!?" asked Melusine.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped her 'father', leaving in a huff.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Melusine was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing she'd opened the letter in the hall. Her 'father' and 'mother' kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, her 'father', who seemed to be trying to be in nice mood, made his wife, Mary, go and get it. Suddenly they heard her scream. "There's another one! 'Ms. Melusine Henderson, aka Melusine Slyth-Oh my god!"

With a strangled cry, John leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Melusine right behind him. He had to wrestle Mary to get the letter from her, which was made difficult by the fact that Melusine had grabbed him around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by fists and feet, John straightened up, gasping for breath, with Melusine's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your room," he wheezed at Melusine. "Go — just go."

Melusine walked round and round her room. Someone knew she hadn't received her first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time she'd make sure they didn't fail. She had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Melusine turned it off quickly and dressed silently She mustn't wake her parents. She snuck downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

She was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Mangrove Drive and get the letters for number twelve first. Her heart hammered as she crept across the dark hall toward the front door —

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Melusine leapt into the air; she'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat — something _alive_!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to her horror, Melusine realized that the big, squashy something had been her 'father's' face. He had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Melusine didn't do exactly what she'd been trying to do. He shouted at her for about half an hour and then told her to go and make a cup of tea. She shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time she got back, the mail had arrived, right into her 'father's' lap. Melusine could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want —" She began, but her 'father; was tearing the letters into pieces before her eyes.

John didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," He explained to his wife, through a mouthful of nails, "If they can't _deliver _them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, John."

"Oh, these peoples minds work in strange ways, Mary, they're not like you and me," said Melusine's 'father', trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Mary had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Melusine. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

John stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Melusine found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Mary through the living room window. While John made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Mary shredded the letters in her food processor.

On Sunday morning, John sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "No damn letters today —" Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. The next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Henderson's ducked, but Melusine leapt into the air trying to catch one.

"Out! OUT!"

John seized Melusine around the waist and threw her into the hall. When Mary had run out with her arms over her face, John slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said her 'father';, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his beard at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Melusine was sniffling in the back seat; her father had hit her round the head for holding them up while she tried to pack her fantasy books.

They drove. And they drove. Even Mary didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then John would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off . . . shake 'em off," He would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. It was nightfall. She'd never had such a bad day in her life. She was hungry, sleepy, and confused. Her 'father' stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Her and her parents shared a room. Her 'father' snored but Melusine stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering. . . .

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

" 'Scuse me, but is one of you Ms. Melusine Slytherin? Only I got about a hundred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Ms. Melusine Henderson, aka Melusine Slytherin Room 20 Railview Hotel Cokeworth

Melusine made a grab for the letter but her 'father' knocked her hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said John, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Her 'mother' suggested timidly, hours later, but John didn't seem to hear her.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Melusine asked her 'mother' dully late that afternoon.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof the building. Melusine sniveled.

Her 'father' was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Mary when she asked what he'd bought.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said John gleefully, clapping his hands together. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Melusine privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer her up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the building and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. They went to bed, climbing up into a crowded, creaky mattress. The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Melusine couldn't sleep. She shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, her stomach rumbling with hunger. Her 'father's' snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of her watch, which was dangling on her small wrist, told her in ten minutes' time, it would be 12:00 A.M. She lay and watched the morning tick nearer, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Melusine heard something creak outside. She hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although she might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Mangrove Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that she'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Then two minutes to go, what was that funny crunching noise?

One minute to go, Thirty seconds . . . twenty . . . ten . . . nine — maybe she'd wake her 'mom' up. She felt scared. Was there going to be a hurricane?— three . . . two . . . one . . .

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Melusine sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

BOOM. They knocked again. Her 'mother' jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" She said stupidly. But became fully awake and was terrified. She noticed her 'daughter' was shaking and held her close, trying to comfort her.

There was a crash behind them and her 'father' jumped out of bed. He was holding a rifle in his hands — now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" He shouted. "I warn you — I'm armed!"  
There was a pause. Then —  
SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned back to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . . ."

He strode over to the bed where Melusine sat frozen with fear.

She squeaked and held onto her 'mother', who was patting her back, terrified, behind her husband.

"An' here's Melusine!" said the giant.

Melusine looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a teeny weeny little baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer mom, but yeh've got yer dad's eyes."

John made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, John, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of her 'father's' hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Her 'father' made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway —Melusine," said the giant, turning his back on the Henderson's, "A very happy mornin' to yeh. Got somethin' fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Melusine opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _Happy first year at Hogwarts, Melusine! _written on it in green icing.

What's Hogwarts?

Melusine looked up at the giant. She meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to her mouth, and what she said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Melusine's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together.

"I'd not say no ter somethin' stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Melusine felt the warmth wash over her as though she'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashed package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Melusine fidgeted a little. Her 'father' said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Honey."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"I ain't gonna poison her, Henderson, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Melusine, who was so hungry she had never tasted anything so wonderful, but she still couldn't take her eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, she said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er — no," said Melusine.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," She said quickly.

"_Sorry_?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Henderson's, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Melusine.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!" He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Henderson's were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Henderson's. "That this young woman— this girl! — knows nothin' abou' — about ANYTHING?" Melusine thought this was going a bit far. She had been to school, after all, and her marks weren't bad.

"I know _some _things," she said. "I can, you know, do geometry and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About _our _world, I mean. _Your _world. _My _world. _Yer parents' world._"

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.  
"HENDERSON!" he boomed.

John, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Melusine. "But yeh must know about yer mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're _famous. _You're _famous._"

"What? My — my mom and dad aren't famous, are they?"

"Yeh don' know . . . yeh don' know . . ." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Melusine with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" he said finally.

John suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell my daughter anything!"

A braver man than John Henderson would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You're daughter!? YOUR DAUGHTER!? She's not YOUR daughter! You never told her? You passed her up as your own? Never told her what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer her? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Henderson! An' you've kept it from her all these years?"

"Kept _what _from me?" Asked Melusine eagerly. "You-you're my parents, aren't you?"

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled John in panic.

Mary gave a gasp of horror. "No! Don't!"

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Melusine— yer a witch."

There was silence inside the hotel. Only the rain and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a _what_?" gasped Melusine.

"A witch, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Melusine stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Ms. Melusine Slytherin, The hotel. She pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards _)

Dear Ms. Slytherin,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress._

Questions exploded inside Melusine's head like fireworks and she couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes she stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that she could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
Given Melusine her letter.  
Taking her to buy her things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Melusine realized her mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, John, still ashen faced but looking very angry, moved into the fire light.

"She's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop her," he said. "A what?" said Melusine, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "It's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said John, "Swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Melusine. "You _knew _I'm a — a witch?"

"Knew!" shrieked Mary suddenly. "_Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that _school _— and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Sarah this and Sarah that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Slytherin at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — _abnormal _— and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up but at least we got you! Raised you as our own _normal_ child. What we had been wanting for years."

Melusine had gone very white. As soon as she found her voice she said, "Blown up? So you're really not my real parents? Not my real mommy, or daddy?"

"No we-we are. We can be-still be. Please don't go honey. We raised you. You're ours."

"Yours!? Your's!?" Roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Henderson's scuttled back to their corner. "How could someone like you, mere...mere muggles be the heir of Slytherin's parents! It's an outrage! A scandal! Melusine Slytherin not knowin' her own story when every kid in our world knows her name!"

"But why? What happened?" Melusine asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. "I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Melusine, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Henderson's.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it. . . ."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows —"

"Who?"

"Well — I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Melusine, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went . . . bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was . . ."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Melusine suggested.

"Nah — can't spell it. All right — _Voldemort._" Hagrid shuddered.

"Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about thirty eight years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Melusine. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches . . . terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway. " He grunted. "Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the mys- t'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before . . . probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em . . . maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween eighteen years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway . . .

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then — an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kidnap you. Wanted ter raise you as his own, I suppose, or maybe he just liked to have you on his side, you are, after all, the only heir to Slytherin. You hold great power. But we stopped him just in time, took you from em. An' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Melusine's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, she saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than she had ever remembered it before and she remembered something else, for the first time in her life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching her sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot . . . After we chased You-Know-Who away. He was weak, for he had killed the Potters. And for some reason couldn't kill their baby. That broke his power. That's why he needed you."

"Load of old tosh," said John. Melusine jumped; She had almost forgotten that her so called parents were there. John certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, hun," He snarled, "I accept there's some- thing strange about you— and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion — asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end —"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered red umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at John like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Henderson— I'm warning you — one more word . . ."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, John's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor. Melusine, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. "But what happened to Vol-, sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Melusine. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill Harry Potter. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see . . . He was gettin' more an' more powerful — why'd he go? He didn't. He came back and tried to kill Harry. But Harry won. I suppose he died. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. 'Cause somethin' about Harry finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — _I _dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin' about Harry stumped him, all right. And then you, you evaded him, somehow produced a shield until we found you and could take you to safety. You are a strong witch, even as a mere one year old."

Hagrid looked at Melusine with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Melusine, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A witch? Her? How could she possibly be? She'd spent her life being bullied by students at her school and sexually harassed by guys; if she was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty, slimy toads every time they'd tried to hit her or touch her inappropriately? If she'd once evaded the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come nothing special has happened?

"Hagrid," She said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a witch."

To her surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

She looked into the fire. Now that she came to think about it . . . every odd thing that had ever made her 'mother' and 'father; furious with her had happened when she, Melusine, had been upset or angry . . . chased by the popular gang, she had somehow found herself out of their reach . . . dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, but she'd managed to make it grow back . . . and the very last time a person had hit her, hadn't she got her revenge, without even realizing she was doing it? Hadn't she set a boa constrictor on him?

Melusine looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at her.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Melusine Slytherin, not a witch— you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But John wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you she's not going?" he hissed. "She's going to Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and she needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —"

"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop her, She is eighteen after all, an adult." growled Hagrid. "Stop Sarah an' Jack Slytherin's daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Her name's been down ever since she was born. She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and she won't know herself. She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled John.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER —" he thundered, "— INSULT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Mary— there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Mary was dancing on the spot with her hands clasped over her bottom, howling in pain. When she turned her back on them, Melusine saw a long lizard's tail poking through a hole in her pajama pants.

John Henderson roared. Pulling Mary into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "But it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn her into a lizard, but I suppose she was so much like a lizard anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Melusine under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff — one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job —"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Melusine.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Melusine.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

Melusine woke early the next morning. Although she could tell it was daylight, she kept her eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," She told herself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my bedroom."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

_And there_'_s mother knocking on the door, _Melusine thought, her heart sinking. But she still didn't open her eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," She mumbled, "I'm getting up."

She sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off her. The hotel was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Melusine scrambled to her feet, so happy she felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside her. She went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Melusine tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at her and carried on savaging the coat.

"Hagrid!" said Melusine loudly. "There's an owl —"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing _but _pockets, bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags . . . finally, She pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

She counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so she could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Mel, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Melusine was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. She had just thought of something that made her feel as though the happy balloon inside her had got a puncture.

"Um — Hagrid?"

"Mhm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I uh, haven't got any money — and you heard Dad-um, Uncle John last night . . . he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed —"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, girl! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer cake, neither."

"Wizards have _banks_?"

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

She dropped the bit of sausage she was holding.

"_Goblins_?"

"Yeah — so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Mel. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — 'cept maybe Hogwarts." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "Dumbledore usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you, gettin' things from Gringotts, knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Melusine followed Hagrid out into the parking lot. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle John had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" She asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"_Flew_?"

"Yeah — but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Melusine still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Melusine another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter — er — speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Melusine, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the red umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" She asked as they sped across the sea.

"Spells — enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high- security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way. Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on somethin'."

Melusine sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the _Daily Prophet. _She had learned from Uncle John that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, she'd never had so many questions in her entire life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" She asked, before she could stop herself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic _do_?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"_Why_? Blimey, Mel, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passersby's stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Melusine couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Mel? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Melusine, panting a bit as she ran to keep up, "Did you say there are _dragons _at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a 'd _like _one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid."

"Me too, here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Melusine so she could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Mel?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Melusine took the parchment envelope out of her pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

She unfolded a second piece of paper she hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Uniform:

First-year students will require:  
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

And 4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Course books:

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ By: Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _By: Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _By: Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _By: Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ By: Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _By: Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _By: Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ _By: Quentin Trimble_

Other equipment:

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl/other type of bird OR a cat OR a toad OR a snake OR a rodent

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS!

"Can we buy all this in London?" Melusine wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

She had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Melusine had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Henderson's had cooked up? If Melusine hadn't known that the Henderson's had no sense of humor, she might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told her so far was unbelievable, Melusine couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, She wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Melusine had the most peculiar feeling that only she and Hagrid could see it. Before she could mention this, Hagrid had steered her inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Melusine's shoulder and making her knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at her, "is this — can this be — ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Melusine Slytherin. . . what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Melusine and seized her hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Ms. Slytherin, welcome back."

She didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at her. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Melusine found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Ms. Slytherin, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Ms. Slytherin, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Ms. Slytherin, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" Yelled Melusine, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"She remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? She remembers me!"

Melusine shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Mane!" said Hagrid. "Mel, Professor Mane will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts. He's new."

"M-M-Melusine S-Slytherin," stammered Professor Mane, grasping her hand, "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Mane?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts, for the lower grades." Muttered Professor Mane, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, M-M-Melusine?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Mane keep Melusine to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on — lots ter buy. Come on, Mel."

Doris Crockford shook her hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at her.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Mane was tremblin' ter meet yeh — mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first- hand experience. . . . They say he met werewolves in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject, kind of like Professor Quirrell, eh, oops, heh, wasn't suppose to mention him. — now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Werewolves? Hags? Melusine's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up . . . two across . . ." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Mel. Woo, does this bring back memories. I remember doin' this for good ol' Harry when he was about 11 years old."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "To Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Melusine's amazement. They stepped through the archway. She looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the arch- way shrink instantly back into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons, All Sizes. Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Melusine wished she had about eight more eyes. She turned her head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Melusine's age, maybe a year older, had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," She heard one of them say, "The new Nimbus Two Thousand and six — fastest ever —" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments she had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon. . . .

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was —

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about 8 heads shorter than Melusine. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, She noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware _

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, had to explain that ter Harry too. He wanted to know about the dragon. I bet you guys would make great friends." said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Melusine made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Ms. Melusine Slytherin's safe."

"S-Slytherin?" The goblin gulped. "Do...You have her key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblins book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Melusine watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it, Heh, this happened when I got Harry his money too. Never was great with rememberin' stuff unless of course It's important." said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order. Very well," he said, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Melusine followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

Griphook held the door open for them. Melusine, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in, Hagrid with some difficulty, and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Melusine tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, left, right, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Melusine's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open. Once, she thought she saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but was too late. They plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I'll never know," She called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "What's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gon' be sick."

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Melusine gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Melusine's— it was incredible. The Henderson's couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from her faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much everything cost them? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to her, buried deep under London.

Hagrid helped Melusine pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart." said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Melusine didn't know where to run first now that she had a bag full of money. She didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that she was holding more money than she'd had in her whole life — more money than even both her aunt and uncle had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Mel, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so she entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Melusine started to speak. "Got the lot here — another Hogwarts student, a young man is being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Melusine on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Melusine.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at clothes for herself," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I think I'll bully father into getting me one."

Melusine scrunched up her nose.

_Brat._

"Have _you _got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Melusine.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Melusine said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I _do — Father says it'd a crime if I hadn't been picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. What House are you in? I've never seen you before."

"Uh, I don't know. I'm new. In fact It's my first year." said Melusine, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"That's weird. Never met a new senior before. I'm in Slytherin house. Hope you get to be in it too. It's the best house there is."

There's a house named Slytherin?

"Mmm," said Melusine, wishing she could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man! It's Hagrid. What's _he_ doing here? Sort of a savage isn't he. Heh..." said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Melusine and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"I think he's brilliant," said Melusine coldly.

"_Do _you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Melusine shortly. She didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, "But they were _our _kind, weren't they?"

"Yes. They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before she could answer, Madam Malkin said, "There you go. Yer done, my dear," and Melusine, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, had hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Melusine was rather quiet as she ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought her (chocolate and strawberry with fudge topping).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Melusine lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Melusine cheered up a bit when she found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, she said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Melusine, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know — not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Melusine. She told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.

"— and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in —"

"Yer not _from _a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh _were _— he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what _is _Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like...like baseball in the Muggle world. Everyone follows Quidditch, played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls, sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School Houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but —"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Melusine gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. Besides your parents of course. And You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

They bought her school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hagrid almost had to drag Melusine away from _Curses and Counter- curses _(_Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More_) By: Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse people. Isn't that cool!"

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Hagrid wouldn't let Melusine buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), But they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Melusine, Melusine herself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Melusine's list again.

"Just yer wand left — oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present. Sorry I missed your birthday. You only turn into an adult once."

Melusine felt herself go red.

"You don't have to —"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at — an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

"No! No. Please get me a snake."

"A snake!? Why you wantin' a snake for? They're good for nuttin', trouble makin' slimy, creepy,-"

"Please!?"

"Eh, alright, alright. What kind are ye wantin'?"

"What kind do they have?"

"Well, we got regular snakes from the muggle world and then we have snakes from our world, I suppose all of em, pretty much every breed."

"What's the most dangerous one there?"

"Now, Melusine. Don't get any ideas."

"Oh, come one! Please!"

"Uh, well. It's not against the rules but...It's still dangerous."

"Aw, come on, Hagrid! I'll be careful. I have a special bond with snakes. Here. I'll tell ya what. If I can't bond with him you can get me an owl. Ok?"

"Oh, alright. I'll get ye the most dangerous one there, ye just better hope it don't bite me. Eh?"

"Yay." She clapped her hands together happily. "Get a boy one."

"A boy? That's even worse!"

"Please!"

"Alright, alright, ye go look around, kid. I'll be right back."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Melusine now carried a large snake, it was such a dark green it was almost black. It's eyes glowed yellow, It's pupils slit into a thin black line. It was about 13 ft. and about as wide as her thigh. The snake had bonded with her instantly, so there was no turning back now. She named him Naga. She couldn't stop stammering her thanks, sounding just like Professor Mane.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Just Ollivanders left now, only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand . . . this was what she had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382b.c. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Melusine felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Melusine jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Melusine awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Melusine Slytherin." It wasn't a question. "Although I expected you sooner, you're a bit old to be startin' your first year at Hogwarts. You have your father's eyes. It seems only yesterday he was in here himself, buying his first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Melusine. She wished she would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your mother, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your mother favored it but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Melusine were almost nose to nose. She could see herself reflected in those misty eyes.

He shook his head and then, to Melusine's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again. . . . Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er — yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't _use _them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his red umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now — Ms. Slytherin. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er — well, I'm right-handed," said Melusine.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Slytherin. We use unicorn hairs, snake and dragon scales, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of giant dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same."

Melusine suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her small nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Ms. Slytherin. Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

She took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it."

She tried — but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Again she tried. And tried. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — Dragon and snake scales, dragon heartstring, dark jade green, twelve inches, nice and bendy."

Melusine took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of green, black, and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well . . . how curious . . . how very curious . . ."

He put Melusine's wand back into its box and wrapped it in green paper, still muttering, "Curious . . . curious . . ."

"Sorry," said Melusine, "But _what's _curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Melusine with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Slytherin. Every single wand. It so happens that the scales that are in your wand, came from a snake that gave It's scales to a different, but yet similar wand. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its 'brother' — why, its 'brother's' master tried to kidnap you that night."

Melusine swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yes. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. . . . I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. Slytherin. . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great. This, now this wand was once your ancestor, Salazar Slytherin's. Use it well, for you are his heir, his dream, child. Make him proud."

She shivered. She wasn't sure she liked Mr. Ollivander too much. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Melusine and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty Melusine didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; she didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the long, fat snake asleep on It's master's lap. And her owl asleep in It's cage. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Melusine only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped her on the shoulder.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.

He bought her a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. She kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You all right, Mel? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

She wasn't sure she could explain. She'd just had the best day of her life — and yet — She chewed her hamburger, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," She said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Mane, Mr. Ollivander . . . You. but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I don't even know exactly what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry — I mean, the night my parents died. And You-Know-Who tried to kidnap me."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Mel. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, 'smatter of fact."

Hagrid helped Melusine on to the train that would take her back to the Henderson's, then handed her an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September — King's Cross — it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Henderson's, send me a letter with yer owl, He'll know where to find me. . . . See yeh soon, Mel."

The train pulled out of the station. Melusine wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; she rose in her seat and pressed her nose against the window, but she blinked and Hagrid had gone.

Melusine's last month with the Henderson's wasn't fun. Aunt Mary and Uncle John didn't shut Melusine in her room, force her to do anything, or shout at her— in fact, they didn't speak to her at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Melusine in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.

She kept to her room, with her snake and new owl for company. She had decided to call him Thorntwig, a name she had found in _A History of Magic. _Her school books were very interesting. She lay on her bed reading late into the night, Thorntwig swooping in and out of the open window as he pleased. And her snake, Naga, wrapped around her body, loosely, sleeping. It was lucky that Aunt Mary didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Thorntwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, but that was fine, Naga was happy to eat them. Melusine ticked off another day on the piece of paper she had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.

On the last day of August she thought she'd better speak to her aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so she went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. She cleared her throat to let them know she was there. "Er — Uncle, um, Uncle John?"

John grunted to show he was listening.

"Er — I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to...to go to Hogwarts."

John grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. Melusine supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

She was about to go back upstairs when John actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Melusine didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Melusine, realizing this for the first time. She pulled the ticket Hagrid had given her out of her pocket.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," She read.

Her aunt and uncle stared. "Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said John. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"Its on my ticket."

"Barking," said John, "Howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" She asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking my sister to the hospital," Growled John. "Got to get rid of that wretched food poisoning."

Melusine woke up at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. She got up and pulled on her black and green sweater dress she had bought down at Diagon Ally because she didn't want to walk into the station in her wizard's robes — She'd change on the train. She checked her Hogwarts list yet again to make sure she had everything she needed, saw that Thorntwig was shut safely in his cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Henderson's to get up. Two hours later, Melusine's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Henderson's car. Snake loosely around her neck and body, sleeping.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. John dumped Melusine's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for her. Melusine thought this was strangely kind, considering how angry he was at her, until Uncle John stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine — platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

Her snake, Naga, slithered out from under his cage, hissing at John.

"Eek! G-Get that nasty thing away from me!"

She did, tucking him away, back into his cage.

"Have a good term," Grunted Uncle John with an even nastier smile. But still wary of the poisonous snake not so far from him. He left without another word. Melusine turned and saw the Henderson's drive away. All two of them. Melusine's mouth went rather dry. What on earth was she going to do? She was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Naga and Thorntwig. She'd have to ask someone.

She stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when she couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though she was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, she asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. She was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, she had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and she had no idea how to do it; she was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk she could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl and snake.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell her something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. She wondered if she should get out her wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind her and she caught a few words of what they were saying.

"— packed with Muggles, of course, as always. —"

Melusine swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to one boy and one girl, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like her's in front of them— and they had an _owl._

Heart hammering, Melusine pushed her cart after them. They stopped and so did she, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped the girl, about her age.

"Good job, Ginny. you go first."

The girl marched toward platforms nine and ten. She watched, careful not to blink in case she missed it — but just as the girl reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of her and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the girl had vanished.

"Ron, you next," the plump woman said.

"Alright. I'll tell Harry you said hi, mum." said the boy, around her age.

Harry? Harry Potter?

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Melusine said to the plump woman.

"Hello, deary," she said. "Going to Hogwarts for your seventh year? Ron is too." She pointed at Ron one of her kids. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"Uh, no. Not exactly. I, well, this is my first time at Hogwarts." said Melusine.

"What!? Really!? But you should be a senior by now!"

"I-I know, but...The thing is — the thing is, I don't know how to um—"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Melusine nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now, before Ron."

"Er — okay," said Melusine.

She pushed her trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

She started to walk toward it. People jostled her on their way to platforms nine and ten. She walked more quickly. She was going to smash right into that barrier and then she'd be in trouble, leaning forward on her cart, she broke into a heavy run. The barrier was coming nearer and nearer, she wouldn't be able to stop, the cart was out of control, she was a foot away, she closed her eyes ready for the crash...

It didn't come . . . she kept on running . . . she opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Melusine looked behind her and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters _on it. _She had done it._

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Melusine pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville,_" She heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid off a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Melusine pressed on through the crowd until she found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Thorntwig inside first and then started to shove and heave her trunk toward the train door. She tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice she dropped it painfully on her foot.

"Want a hand?" It was a red-headed boy, older then her.

"Yes, please," Melusine panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

Another red-headed boy, they were twins. Came over. With their help, Melusine's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Melusine, pushing her pretty blonde hair out of her green eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at her pet snake, Naga.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Is that— ?"

"It _is,_" said the first twin. "Isn't it?" he added.

"What?" said Melusine.

"That's the most dangerous snake in the whole world, muggle and magical. How did you afford that!?" chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Melusine. "I had a lot of money in the bank, my parents must have really cared about me."

"Never mind the money, why on earth would you even get him!?"

The snake moved forward, towards the boys.

"Woah, keep him a good distance away from us. We don't want to die."

The other twin chuckled. "Yeah. I don't think death would be a good color on either of us."

She nodded, tucking away her snake.

The two boys kept gawking at her, and Melusine felt herself turning red. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?'

"Coming, Mom!"

With a last look at Melusine, the twins hopped off the train.  
She sat down next to the window where, half hidden, she could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose...again."

The boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"_Mom _— g-geroff." He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Melusine noticed a shiny red and gold badge on his chest with the letter _P _on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves —"

"Oh, are you a _prefect, _Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin.

"Once —"

"Or twice —"

"A minute —"

"All summer —"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a _prefect,_" said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term — send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.  
"Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've — you've blown up a toilet or —"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's _not funny. _And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys and the girl clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." Said her mother.

Both of the twins laughed. "We'll send you a Hogwarts, Gryffindor, toilet seat."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Melusine saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, waving back.

Melusine watched the mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Melusine felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to — but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red- headed boy came in with another girl and boy.

"Anyone sitting there?" They asked, pointing at the seat opposite of Melusine. "Everywhere else is full."

Melusine shook her head and the students sat down. The boy, named Ron, glanced at Melusine and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Melusine saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there. It's even bigger then the last one!"

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Hey." said the other twin to Melusine, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Melusine and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"What's your name?" Ron blurted out.

Melusine smiled.

"Melusine. Melusine Slytherin."

Everyone of their eyes widened.

"_The_ Melusine Slytherin?"

"Uh, yes. I suppose so."

"Wow!"

"So...uh, You-Know-Who really tried to kidnap you?"

"Yes," said Melusine, "But I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Asked Ron eagerly.

"Well — I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, "You didn't remember anything either, did you Harry?"

"No. Not really. Just like Melusine said, I too, only remember a green light."

"Wicked...Do you suppose he can come back...you know? Through her?"

The girl spoke up. "Enough Ron! Don't scare her. I'm Hermione by the way. Hermione Granger. Ron's girlfriend. And this is Harry Potter, as I'm sure you know."

Melusine nodded, and smiled. "Yes. Nice to meet you. Are all your family wizards?"

"Er — yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"Yeah. I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle aren't though. At least, they didn't use to be. I wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. She looked down quickly, no one noticed, but her snake, Naga, was eyeing Ron's rat hungrily.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff— I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Melusine didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, she'd never had any money in her life until a month ago, and she told Ron so, This seemed to cheer Ron up.

". . . and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or Voldemort —"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Melusine.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name_!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people —"

"Ron! We've all said his name before, what's so bad about saying it now?" Asked Harry.

"W-Well he could..you know, come back. Like we could jinx it or something..."

"That's ridiculous!" Piped up Hermione. "Go on, Melusine."

"I'm not trying to be _brave _or anything, saying the name, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn. . . . I bet," She added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying her a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

"Harry here didn't know anything either. Hagrid also came to him and told him everything. And look at him now. He defeated Voldemort. And even died and came back to life. He saved us all."

"_We_ defeated Voldemort." Corrected Harry, smiling.

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Melusine, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to her feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches like always. Harry went out into the corridor to pay for the whole lot, but Melusine stopped him, paying for the whole trolly herself instead.

She had never had any money for candy with the Henderson's. They always bought stuff for her. It was nice being able to pay for your own things. Ron stared as Melusine brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Melusine, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Melusine, holding up a pasty. "Go on —"

"You don't want this, its all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "You know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Melusine, It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, and his friends, eating their way through all of Melusine's pasties, cakes, and candies (The sandwiches lay forgotten).

"What are these?" Melusine asked Harry, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not _really _frogs, are they?" She was starting to feel that nothing would surprise her.

"No," said Harry as Ron and Hermione chuckled.

"Let's see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa." Ron said.

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Melusine unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. He looked familiar.

"So _this _is Dumbledore!" said Melusine.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa, thanks "

Melusine turned over her card and read: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE currently headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Melusine turned the card back over and saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron.

"He'll be back. No! I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her . . . do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Melusine. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "_Weird _!"

Melusine stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave her a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Melusine couldn't keep her eyes off them. Soon she had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. She unwrapped another Chocolate Frog but this one caught her attention. It was a new one, but that's not what interested her. It was the man inside.

**Professor Severus Snape:** Is a half-blood wizard aka The Half-Blood Prince, who is the son of the witch Eileen Snape (Hence Prince.) And muggle Tobias Snape. Severus Snape is Potions master, Defense against the Dark Arts Professor of the upper classmen, and is head of the Slytherin House at Hogwarts. (which he attended as a student). He is also a member of the Order of the Phoenix and played a very important role in both of the Wizarding Wars against Lord Voldemort.

Species: Human/Wizard

Gender: Male

Hair: Black

Eyes: Black

Skin: Caucasian, pale

Born: 9, January 1960.  
Spinners end, Cokeworth

Age: 40

Height: 6 ft. 4 in.

Weight: 190 Pounds

Blood status: Half-Blood

Marital status: Single

Patronus: Unknown

Wand: Unknown

She finally tore her eyes away from Severus Snape, who was staring at her intently. And began to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned her. "When they say every flavor, they _mean _every flavor. You know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh — see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Melusine got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Melusine had passed on platform nine and three- quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "But have you seen a toad at all?"

"Again, really?" Harry rolled his eyes.

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him . . .Tell me." He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy this time.

Three boys entered, and Melusine recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at her with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Melusine Slytherin's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Melusine. She was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where she was looking. "And my names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"What's so funny, Ron?" He turned back to Melusine. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Melusine's, but she didn't take it. Just like Harry didn't his first year.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," She said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you." he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry, Hermione and Ron stood up.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Melusine, more bravely then the others.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron — Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Melusine's snake had scared him, and he fainted.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Naga. "Scared the bloody hell outta him."

The two other boys ran off at the sight of the poisonous snake.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Harry asked.

Melusine explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"You heard of his family?" Asked Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Before his defeat, that night he tried to kill Harry and kidnap you. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad never believed them. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side. And he was right. After they found out he was working with You-Know-Who they put them in jail, but let Draco go."

Hermione piped up. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Would you mind leaving while we change?" Hermione asked.

"Sure." Said Ron, Harry followed behind them. Going to change elsewhere.

Hermione stopped Ron. "And you've got dirt on your nose again, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as he left. Remembering when he had first met her. Melusine peered out of the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

She and Hermione took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Melusine's stomach lurched with nerves and Hermione, she saw, looked pale under her long brown hair. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Melusine shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Melusine heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Melusine?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, she followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that she thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. She got into the boat with Hagrid and two other first years.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, "Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was check- ing the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, light grey-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Melusine's first thought of the woman was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Henderson's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Melusine could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

She cleared her throat softly. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Melusine. They seemed to glisten. A small smiled twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Melusine swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" She asked a nearby student.

"Some sort of test, I think. My older brother said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Melusine's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But she didn't know any magic yet — what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except a student that reminded her of Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Melusine tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she'd had to take a school report home to the Henderson's saying that she'd somehow turned her teacher's wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.

Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air — several people behind her screamed.

"What the — ?"

She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he de- serves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "And follow me."

Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Melusine got into the line behind a boy with sandy hair, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Melusine had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candle- light. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, probably wondering why an eighteen year old was amongst the first years. Melusine looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper from below at a table, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. You can read about it in _Hogwarts, A History..._"

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Melusine quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Mary wouldn't have let it in the house.

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, _Melusine thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid_!  
_And don't get in a flap_!  
_You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap_!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished it's song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" A boy whispered to another.

"I'll kill Gary, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Melusine smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, or wrestle a troll. but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Melusine didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a House for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Melusine saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Melusine could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Melusine's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought they looked like a pleasant lot.

She was starting to feel definitely sick now. She remembered being picked for teams during gym at her old school.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, she noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.

"Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Melusine in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

A horrible thought struck Melusine, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train?

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon" . . . , "Nott" . . . , "Parkinson" . . . , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" . . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne" . . . , and then, at last —

"Slytherin, Melusine!"

As Melusine stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Slytherin, _did she say?"

"_The _Melusine Slytherin?"

The last thing Melusine saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting, Beautiful, yes, so very beautiful. . And such strength! ... So where shall I put you?"

Melusine gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Just put me somewhere I belong. Somewhere I'm appreciated. _

The hat spoke again. "You could be great, you know, its all here in your head, and I know just who will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — better be...SLYTHERIN!"

Melusine heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table. She was so relieved to have been chosen and put in Slytherin, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Penny the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Conner twins yelled, "We got Slytherin! We got Slytherin!" Melusine sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Melusine the sudden, horrible feeling she'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Melusine grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. She recognized him at once from the card she'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Melusine spotted Professor Mane, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large green turban. And there, not far from her, sat Professor Severus Snape who was looking at her very intently. With a weird expression plastered on his face. He seemed to be in a daze. Melusine blushed at turned back to the sorting hat just as the last kid was sorted.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Melusine looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Melusine didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" She asked Penny uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Penny airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Mel?"

Her mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Henderson's had never exactly starved her, not at all. but she'd never been allowed to eat as much as she liked. Melusine piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Melusine cut up her steak.

"Can't you — ?"

"No. I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said a first year suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer _you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly _Headless? How can you be _nearly _headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like _this,_" he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but had not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Slytherins! Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

They all looked at The Bloody Baron. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding . . .

As Melusine helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

Melusine, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Mane, in his absurd turban, was talking to the teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin, which was Professor Snape.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Mane's turban straight into Melusine's huge, bright, green, eyes, she blushed, looking away quickly.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Mane?" A first year asked Penny.

"Oh, you know Mane already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Melusine watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Melusine giggled quietly, but she was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" She muttered to Penny.

"Must be," said Penny, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Melusine noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Except for Snape. He wasn't smiling at all.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot._"

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase.

Slytherin first years followed Penny out of the Great Hall up the same staircase. Melusine's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Penny led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Melusine was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Penny took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at her.

"Peeves," Penny whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." She raised her voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Penny.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Penny's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Penny, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a green silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Pure-Bloods," said Penny, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Slytherin common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy green armchairs, and walls decorated in skulls.

Penny directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the dungeons— they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with jade green, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, wasn't it?" A girl, one of Melusine's roommates, muttered to her through the hangings.

Perhaps Melusine had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. She was wearing Professor Mane's green turban, which kept talking to her. It got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at her as she struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became a low sad cry. There was a burst of green light and Melusine woke, sweating and shaking.

She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke the next day, she didn't remember the dream at all.

There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the black hair."

"Wearing the green sweater dress, with the blonde hair?"

"Did you see her face? Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Beautiful, yes. But did you see her snake? Scary isn't he?"

Whispers followed Melusine from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. She wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Melusine was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Malfoy and his bodyguards managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Mane, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins and Professor Snape.) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Except for Melusine who always petted her when she walked by.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Melusine quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. But Melusine loved that class, she respected plants like people.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Melusine's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Melusine had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Melusine had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Melusine a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Mane's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Mane had fought off the zombie, Mane went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Mane was protected wherever he went.

Melusine was very relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Melusine and Harry. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. Or at least she did, Harry already knew the way.

"What have we got today?" Melusine asked Harry as she poured sugar on her porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we'll be able to see if it's true. Uh, no offense."

"None taken."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving him a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Melusine had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Thorntwig hadn't brought Melusine anything so far. He sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, he fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto her plate. She tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Melusine,  
I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Thorntwig.  
~Hagrid

Melusine borrowed Harry's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later _on the back of the note, and sent Thorntwig off again.

At the start-of-term banquet, Melusine had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. By the end of the first Potions lesson, she knew she'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike her. He actually _hated _her.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Melusine's name.

"Ah, _yes,_" he said softly, "Melusine Slytherin. Our new _celebrity._"

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. And much to their surprise, Snape flashed them a warning glare. He finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they held none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Or worse, _death_.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, his voice deep and nasally, his british accent as thick as mud. but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. He scared the students shitless but not Melusine. She found him very interesting. And it seemed he felt the same way about her.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Melusine was ready to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Melusine!" snapped Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The class stared at her, waiting for an answer.

Snape continued. "And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Melusine forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold, calculating eyes. She had looked through her books at the Henderson's, And remembered every word.

He asked another question, adding it to the rest. "What is the difference, Melusine, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

She smirked and began her answer. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

Everyone was staring, eyes wide.

"I'm not the only one in this class, though, So why don't you try someone else, instead of glaring at me because I dented your ego? Or do you like being an insufferable know-it-all that picks out the student that will most likely get his questions wrong, seeing as I just found out yesterday I was even a witch."

A few people laughed; Melusine caught Seamus' eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Shut up," he snapped at the laughing class. "Well? She answered it correctly. Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Slytherin House for your cheek, Melusine."

The Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except, to her surprise, Melusine. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way she had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Seamus had somehow managed to melt his cauldron into a twisted blob, and his potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while, Seamus, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Seamus whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at a sophomore. Then he rounded on Melusine, who had been working next to them.

"You — Melusine— why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Slytherin. And don't push it, It's hard enough taking points from my own team. Pull yourself together, girl."

This was so unfair that Melusine opened her mouth to argue, but her partner kicked her behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Melusine's mind was racing and her spirits were low. She'd lost two points for Slytherin in her very first week, — _why _did Snape hate her so much?

"Cheer up," said Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George and me. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang — _back._"

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "_Back, _Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Harry and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"Glad to see ya, Hagrid." Harry told him, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Glad to see ya too, Harry. My have you grown. The both of ya are all grown up." said Hagrid, a tear in his eye, glancing at both of them then back at the food he was preparing. The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Melusine pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons of the year. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry, and Melusine, were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git''

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it."

Melusine told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Harry, told her not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _hate _me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Melusine couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

As Harry and Melusine walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse.

Melusine had never believed she would meet a boy she hated more than Jake, a boy who stood her up once in high school. but that was before she met Draco Malfoy. She spotted a notice pinned up in the Slytherin common room that made her groan inwardly. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday — and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. Both houses were like arch enemies, no doubt going to be yelling at each other the whole time. Again she would have to hear Malfoy's yippity yappity mouth go on and on how he was better then everyone.

"Typical," said Melusine darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than any- thing else. Not anymore...

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Harry, with Ron and Hermione nodding reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but that's all talk. Trust me. I've beat him more times then I can count."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly, and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Melusine hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother once. It had been a Remembrall. He explained. "Gran knows I forget things. It tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Neville explained that in his first year he had been trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who always bullied him, had tried to steal it from him.

Malfoy, that good for nothing son-of-a...

At three-thirty that afternoon, Melusine, and the other Slytherins hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Gryffindors were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Melusine had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Melusine glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!' "

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Melusine's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. One of the other's had simply rolled over on the ground, and another's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Melusine; there was a quaver in Seamus' voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Melusine was delighted when she said her's was perfect.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.— three — two —one!" She blew her whistle.

Melusine pushed off of the ground, rose a few feet, floated there for a couple of minutes then landed back down, softly, no problems at all.

For the others it was a different story. She was the only one to even get off the ground, let alone fly.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Melusine thought, as she lay awake much later listening to her roommates falling asleep. Ron had spent all evening giving her advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." Referring to Malfoy and his hatred for her. (If he ever tried anything. But It's highly unlikely he would. At least not in public.)

She got up and walked down the hall, out of the dormitory, knowing fully well she was breaking the rules.

After about an hour of walking around aimlessly, something came shooting out of a classroom in front of her.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of her and gave a quiet squeal of delight.

"Shush, Peeves — please — you'll get me thrown out."

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsty? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give me away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Snape, I should," said Peeves in a sanity voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Fine. Be that way. What'd I ever do to you? Get out of the way," Melusine snapped, taking a swipe at Peeves —this was a big mistake.

"STUDENT OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENT OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR! SLYTHERIN STUDENT IS OUT OF BED!"

Ducking under Peeves, she ran for her life, right to the end of the corridor where she slammed into a door — and it was locked.

"This is it!" Melusine moaned, as she pushed helplessly at the door, "I'm done for! This is the end!"

She could hear footsteps, Snape was running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, come on move, door, move!" Melusine snarled. She grabbed the knob once more and gave it a yank. The door didn't budge. She could hear Snape talking around the corner.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Snape was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.' "

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right — _please._"

"Down that way." And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Snape cursing in rage, footsteps coming closer, and closer.

She groped for the doorknob, yanking again. Between her and safety was a stupid door that wouldn't budge. And Snape was almost there.

She looked around, closed her eyes, and sighed. Excepting her fate. It was her fault. She knew she could get caught. But she'd rather be caught by Mrs. Norris then Snape.

Snape rounded the corner, shocked at what he found.

"...Slytherin...?"

Melusine fidgeted her thumbs nervously.

"Heh, heh. Hi...Professor Snape..."

"And what do you think you're doing here?"

"Uh, looking for the...the, um...Nurses office. You do have a nurses office right?"

"Oh? And why do you need to go to the nurse?"

"I'm uh, feeling very faint." She looked around nervously, then back over to Snape. No harm in giving it a try. She put her arm to her forehead and dramatically swayed back and forth. "Oh, It's happening again." She 'fainted' Hoping to fool the professor.

Snape walked over to her swiftly, lifting her up into his arms. At first Melusine thought he was going to carry her, but was disappointed when he slapped her face. Not hard, but enough to sting.

"Get up you ninny!"

Her eyes fluttered open, she gave a disappointed sigh as he dropped her back onto the floor.

"What kind of fool to you take me for?!"

"It was worth a shot."

"Your acting skills are horrible. Get up."

"Erm...Fine..."

Melusine got up, brushing off her nightie. It was short, and tight fitting. It had green lace across the neckline and bottom line. The rest was black.

She was embarrassed to be seen this exposed.

Snape looked at her, then averted his eyes. "I...Won't expel you this time... Just get back to bed and...And cover up!"

"Yes sir. Thank you. I promise I won't do it again."

She rushed passed Snape, blushing, back to her room.

At least she wasn't expelled. But now every time she'd see him it would be all...awkward.

She didn't stop running until she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you been?" she asked, looking at Melusine's nightie's straps hanging off her shoulders and her flushed, sweaty face.

Melusine shook her head quickly. "Never mind that —Pure-Blood, Pure-Blood.," She panted, and the portrait swung forward. She scrambled into the common room past the armchairs and up the stairs to the girl's dormitory into her own bedroom. She kept quiet and got into her bed, going to sleep a couple of minutes later.


	2. Snape

About a month later, On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. To her horror, Melusine's partner was Malfoy.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was very difficult. Melusine and Malfoy, (Who was already use to this lesson, considering he'd been heres for 7 years.) Melusine swished and flicked, After some concentration She said quite clearly: "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Waving her long arms like a windmill. Her feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above her head.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Slytherin's done it! And on her first try!"

She was in a very good mood at the end of class.

On her way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Melusine overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Malfoy liked Melusine, romantically. Melusine looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later she had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Malfoy out of her mind.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Melusine was just helping herself to a baked potato when Professor Mane came sprinting into the hall, his green turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Blood-thirsty V-Vampire — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," He rumbled, "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Penny was in her element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the vampire if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a vampire get in?" Melusine asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, I'm not waitin' around to find out." said another girl, beside Melusine. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, she couldn't help but be intrigued. A vampire? What do they look like? How dangerous were they? She wanted to see it for herself. Ducking down, she joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward a classroom. She had just turned the corner when she heard quick footsteps behind her.

Percy! She hid behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, she saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

What's he doing? Why wasn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?

Quietly as possible, she crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

He's heading for the third floor. She thought quietly but held up her head. What was that smell?

Melusine sniffed again and an unusual smell reached her nostrils, a mixture of leather, velvet, cigars, peppermints, cologne, and..._Death_.

And then she heard it — Low grunting, a deep hiss, and the shuffling footfalls of feet. She saw— at the end of a passage to the left, something was moving towards her. She shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It wasn't as horrible a sight as she thought it would be. It looked just like a regular, handsome man. Around 6 feet tall, it's skin was a dull, granite gray, it's fit body in an old fashioned tuxedo, with its head perched on top of his shoulders, sniffing the air for a victim. It had long black hair pulled back into an old fashioned pony tail with a small, black, bow holding it in place. The smell coming from it was incredible. It smelt good, alluring even. The vampire stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It wiggled it's pointy ears, making up it's mind, then slouched slowly, sneaking into the room.

The key's in the lock. Melusine thought. She could lock it in. She edged toward the open door, mouth dry, praying the vampire wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Melusine managed to grab the key, slam the door shut, and lock it.

"_Yes_!"

Flushed with her victory, she started to run back up the passage, but as she reached the corner she heard something that made her heart stop — a low, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber she'd just chained up.

Oh, no she whispered, pale as the Bloody Baron. It's the boy's bathroom! Someone was in there!

It was the last thing she wanted to do, but what choice did she have? Wheeling around, she sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in her panic. Melusine pulled the door open and she ran inside.

A male student was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if he was about to faint. The vampire was advancing on him, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

Confuse it! Melusine mouthed desperately to the boy, and, seizing a tap, she threw it as hard as she could against the wall.

The vampire stopped a few feet from the boy. It turned swiftly around, blinking rapidly, to see what had made the noise. It's mean large red eyes saw Melusine. It hesitated, then made for her instead.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled the boy from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The vampire didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting it's shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its face, baring It's fangs toward the boy instead, giving Melusine time to run around it.

"Come on, run, _run_!" She yelled at the boy, trying to pull him toward the door, but he couldn't move, he was still flat against the wall, his mouth open with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the vampire berserk. It hissed again and started toward the boy, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Melusine then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: She took a great running jump and managed to fasten her arms around the vampire's neck from behind. The vampire could feel her hanging there, but still ignored her, having 100 times more strength then Melusine. But Melusine growled, doing her best to stop the attack, and bit his ear, tearing at it, managing to make it beed, the black blood tasted sweet, not like human blood, it stained her clothes. Howling with pain, or was it annoyance? The vampire twisted and flailed its arms, grabbing at her, with Melusine clinging on for dear life; any second, the vampire was going to rip her off or catch her a terrible blow with his fist.

The boy had sunk to the floor in fright; He pulled out his own wand — not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The spell failed, he obviously hadn't had enough practice.

"Just go! Run! Save yourself!" Melusine yelled. But the boy hesitated, not wanting to leave her. "Go!" She screamed again. Finally the boy listened and ran, going to get help.

Suddenly the vampire's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and grabbed her neck, throwing her to the ground. The vampire swayed, regaining It's balance then roared, a roar so loud, it made the floor tremble.

Melusine got to her feet. She was shaking and out of breath. The vampire leaped for her, she tried to get out of the way but failed. He grabbed her neck, slamming her into the wall.

"Blood..."

"G-Get off me!" Melusine screamed. but it was no use, the vampire wasn't going to listen. The vampire lowered his head, It's fangs, hovering close to her neck, lips so close she could feel the warmth, and his rapid breath. She scratched at his face, leaving claw marks. More black blood ran down his cheek and neck. But as soon as the wounds appeared, they disappeared, starting to heal themselves almost instantly. He hissed and brought his teeth down, but before he could bite, a miracle happened.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the both of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes, Melusine's screams and the vampire's roars. A moment later, Professor Snape had come bursting into the room, took one look at the vampire attacking her, and quickly got out his wand, face contorting with anger. He mumbled something she couldn't hear and suddenly a burst of light left his wand and penetrated the vampires heart, killing him and turning him into ashes.

Snape bent over the vampire and was looking at Melusine. Melusine had never seen him look so angry. His lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Slytherin faded quickly from Melusine's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" Yelled Professor Snape, with cold fury in his voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Melusine a swift, piercing look. Melusine didn't look away, she wouldn't. "I went looking for the vampire because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own —And I um, wanted to see what they looked like. I didn't know it would turn into this. But I had to save a boy, he was trapped in here, being attacked!"

"If she hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. It was about to finish me off when she arrived." The boy she saved earlier stuck his head through the door, walking inside.

Melusine nodded.

"Well — in that case . . ." said Professor Snape, staring at the two of them, "Miss Slytherin, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a blood-thirsty vampire on your own?"

Melusine, finally giving in, and hung her head. She was speechless.

"Miss Melusine, five points will be taken from Slytherin for this," said Professor Snape, annoyed. "I'm very disappointed in you."

Then he turned towards the boy. "_Well_, If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get your _arse_ off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."

The boy left, terrified.

Professor Snape turned back to Melusine.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a blood-thirsty vampire and live. You win Slytherin ten points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this...You may go."

"Yes sir. Thank you for saving me."

Snape nodded swiftly. But was caught off guard as Melusine swung her arms around his neck, hugging him.

"Seriously, thank you. I could have become vampire food."

He hesitated but hugged her back, his arms wrapped around her gently, hands on the small of her back. He'd never been hugged before. It was different. And no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, it felt nice. And then she suddenly kissed him on the cheek. He gasped even more caught off guard. Melusine blushed and pulled back. Leaving him there rooted to the floor in thought.

She hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all, not even when she entered her own room. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the vampire, quite apart from anything else. It was quite intoxicating.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match this year after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Harry was the seeker and a damned good one at that. He's been winning the last few times. And wasn't giving up.

Melusine learned that there were seven hundred ways of commit- ting a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them, (Ron Melusine, Harry and Hermione.) Were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Melusine noticed at once that Snape was in a bad mood. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He strode over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Melusine?"

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages. _Melusine showed him. (She was studying about Quidditch so she could cheer Harry on, and her team.)

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape.

"Give it to me. Five points from Slytherin."

"He's just made that rule up," Melusine muttered angrily as Snape walked away. "Wonder who peed in his cornflakes this morning?"

Ron gasped. "There's piss in the cornflakes? I had some this morning!"

"Figure of speech Ron. I'm just asking why he's in a bad mood. That's all."

The Slytherin common room was very noisy that evening. Melusine sat alone next to a window.

Melusine felt restless. She wanted _Quidditch Through the Ages _back, to take her mind off her nerves about tomorrow's Potions quiz. Why should she be afraid of Snape? Getting up, she told herself she was going to ask Snape if she could have it.

Melusine had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening. She made her way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. Nothing.  
Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. She pushed the door ajar and peered inside — and a horrible scene met her eyes.

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Melusine tried to shut the door quietly, but —"MELUSINE!"

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Melusine gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! _OUT _!"

She left, before Snape could take any more points from

Slytherin. Or worse, kill her.

She sprinted back upstairs.

Harry had told her once that locked up in one of the rooms was a giant three-headed guard dog named Fluffy. Fluffy was one of Hagrid's pets.

But why was he in there messing with the dog? Was he allowed to be in there. From the look on both the men's faces, apparently not.

She went to bed with her head buzzing with the same question. Her roommate was snoring loudly, but Melusine couldn't sleep. She tried to empty her mind — she needed to sleep, she had to, she had to cheer Harry and her team on at this year's first Quidditch match in a few hours — but the expression on Snape's face when Melusine had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Penny.

"I'm not hungry."

Melusine felt terrible. She'd see Snape sooner or later. Will she be in trouble?

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said _Potter for President, _and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Melusine noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a seventh year. Melusine thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of Harry's eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing _Potter for President _over the crowd. He smiled and waved. Melusine waved back. But she was sitting with the Slytherins. She wasn't able to go sit with Ron and Hermione.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry climbed onto his Nimbus Two Two-thousand and Nine. And Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.  
Fifteen brooms rose up, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather at- tractive, too —"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she's really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood

had told Harry. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop- the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. He dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch. All the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs — he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead — he put on an extra spurt of speed —

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on the broom, determined not to fall.

"Foul!" Screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Flint could have knocked Harry out of the air. Harry could have broken his neck. Was was Flint playing at!?

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. "So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul —"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you _—"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sud- den, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that except his first year when someone was jinxing him. Apparently that was happening again, now.

And then it happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal posts — he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out — and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Who was jinxing him! Was it one of the Slytherin's?

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — oh no . . ."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

Melusine's eyes went wide, she noticed Harry and his out of control broom. She recognized the spell. Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands.

She yelled worriedly. "Someone's jinxing him! It's a spell! Someone's jinxing Harry!"

Harry's broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling, holding on with only one hand.

Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic — no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand. It had do be a teacher.

At that though Melusine seized a student's binoculars beside her but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned the kid, gray-faced.

"Hold on! I promise I'll give them back." She suddenly gasped. "I knew it."

Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

He's doing something — jinxing the broom! What should she do?!

"Can I have them back now?" The kid reached for his binoculars. And before he could say another word, Melusine disappeared, throwing the kid's binoculars in his lap.

Harry's broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on it's feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good, every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Melusine had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Mane headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden low yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row, Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours — coughed — and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. It was exactly how he won the first time in his first year. What was going on?

"He didn't _catch _it, he nearly _swallowed _it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, Hermione, and Melusine.

"It was Snape," Melusine was explaining, "I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do some- thin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at Melusine. "That's impossible. After the war Snape loyalties were found out and it so happens that Snape had saved him when the same exact thing happened his first year.

Melusine shook her head. "I found out something about him, He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him."

"Oh you misunderstand. He feeds Fluffy now. He's the only one of the teachers brave enough to. He just got bit, that's all.

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Cried Melusine. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. Harry, Ron and Hermione nodding their heads, agreeing with Hagrid. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin-'

"Aha!" Yelled Melusine, "So it is guarding something! How do you know Snape wasn't trying to steal it and that's why he was bitten!?"

"Because the dog's don't guard it no more. It was guardin' the mirror with the Sorcerer's stone. It was the first time Harry defeated You-Know-Who. We all destroyed the Sorcerer's stone. They aren't guardin' anythin' no more. So there's no reason for yeh to worry."

"But-"

"No buts. but there might be some truth to the jinxing. Professor Quirrell jinxed him the first time because You-Know-Who was using him as a host and needed to get to him. But now You-Know-Who is dead, and so is Professor Quirrell...I think."

Harry gasped. "You think!? Could he be using Quirrell as a host right now?"

"No. Like I said. You-Know-Who is dead. It would be impossible. The only way he could come back is..."

"Is what?"

"Is through Melusine."

"Well I didn't do it!"

"We know you didn't. Let's just forget all about this. Hm? I'll talk to Dumbledore about it. I'm sure Snape was just trying to save harry again."

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Mane around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "For all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Melusine as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Melusine, who was measuring out powdered spine of lion- fish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunt- ing Melusine about having the wrong type of friends etc...

It was true that Melusine wasn't going back to Mangrove Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Melusine had signed up at once. She didn't feel sorry for herself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas she'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Hermione wasn't though. She missed her parents. But other then them most of the students were leaving for Christmas.

When she left the dungeons at the end of Potions, she found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told her that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, beside Melusine, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron's ears turned pink, but he didn't stand up for himself.

Melusine decided to teach Malfoy a lesson.

She dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"MELUSINE!"

Melusine let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"She was provoked, Professor Snape, Defending Ron here." said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree.

"Malfoy was insultin' Ron's family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, and five pints from Slytherin. Melusine be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

Melusine rolled her eyes, lip curled up in disgust. "Do you like punishing me, Snape? Are you always there, just waiting for some chance to somehow embarrass me?"

"No. Of course not."

He walked away with a swipe of his cloak. Melusine thought she had seen a smirk at the edges of Snape's mouth.

"I'll get him," said Melusine, grinding her teeth at Snape's back, "One of these days, I'll get him —"

"I hate them both," said Ron, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the two of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Ron.

"Good luck then." Said Hagrid, smiling from beneath his beard.

Once the holidays had started, Melusine was having too good of a time to worry about Snape. She had the dormitory to herself and the common room was far emptier than usual, so she were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. She sat by the hour eating anything she could spear on a toasting fork — bread, English muffins, marshmallows — and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to think about even if they wouldn't work.

On Christmas Eve, Melusine went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When she woke early in the morning, however, the first thing she saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed.

"Merry Christmas," She said to herself, eyes wide.

Melusine picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To: Melusine, From: Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute, painted dark green. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. She blew it — it sounded a bit like an owl.

She tore open another parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge. It was from Ron's mother.

Her next present also contained candy — a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This only left one parcel. Melusine picked it up and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. She gasped.

"I've heard of these!" She said in an excited voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans she'd gotten from Hermione.

An invisibility cloak. They're very rare and valuable. She picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

Melusine threw the cloak around her shoulders and gave a yell as she looked down at her disappearing body. "It _is_!"

She dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, her reflection looked back at her, just her head suspended in midair, her body completely invisible. She pulled the cloak over her head and her reflection vanished completely.

But there was a note. So she pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, neat writing she had never seen before were the following words:

"Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you."

There was no signature. She stared at the note. She felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to her father? Her _real_ father?

She put away her presents, but spotted one more hiding behind the tree. Melusine opened it excitedly, ripping the paper off and throwing it to the floor. She gasped when she saw what was inside. It was a necklace. A choker to be exact. The choker part of the necklace was black satin, on it dangled an S, the Slytherin symbol. It was black and green, shining beautifully in the light. Decorated to look snake-like. It must have been expensive! She tried it on and it fit perfectly.

There was also a note in the box in came in.

Dear Melusine Slytherin.

I hope you like your present. I know it must look beautiful on you. Consider it a welcome back gift and a Christmas present combined.

It wasn't signed. Who was it from?

She wore it, deciding she would never take it off if she could help it.

Melusine had never in all her life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roasted turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce — and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the muggles usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Melusine pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Mcgonagall had just told him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Penny nearly broke her teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in her slice. Melusine watched Dumbledore getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Melusine's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Melusine finally left the table, she was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non- explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and her own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Melusine had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

Melusine and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire inside, parting ways to different common rooms. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, she felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Penny chase Peeves all over Slytherin Dungeon because he'd stolen her prefect badge.

It had been Melusine's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of her mind all day. Not until she climbed into bed was she free to think about it: the necklace and whoever had sent it.

Her roommates, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother them, fell asleep almost as soon as they'd drawn the curtains of their four-poster. Melusine leaned over the side of her own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it. Her father's . . . this had been her father's. She let the material flow over her hands, smoother than silk, light as air. _Use it well, _the note had said.

She had to try it, now. She slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around herself, still in her little black nightie. Looking down at her legs, she saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

_Use it well._

Suddenly, Melusine felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this cloak. Excitement flooded through her as she stood there in the dark and silence. She could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Snape and Filch would never know.

Her roommate grunted in her sleep.

She crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Melusine said nothing. She walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should she go? She stopped, her heart racing, and thought. And then it came to her. Maybe she could play a trick on Snape. She set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around her as she walked.

Snape's room was pitch-black and very eerie. Melusine squinted slightly to see her way along the floor.

Snape was asleep in his bed. Green silk covers wrapped around his body. He looked very peaceful when asleep not so strict and uptight as he was when awake.

He didn't make a noise, no snoring, just very quiet breathing. Melusine stepped forward, getting a closer look. Snape's face, pale in the moonlight, was blank, emotionless. His eyebrows that were usually furrowed were relaxed, his breathing slow, and calm.

Could she play a prank on him like this? Would she? She asked herself over and over again. Looking at the peaceful man before her, she felt she shouldn't.

She changed her mind and turned to leave. When she got to the end of the hall she tripped and fell, the cloak sliding off of her body completely. Suddenly Peeves appeared, floating through a wall, spotting her.

"Oh, look what we have here. It's Mel, running about past curfew again, I see."

"Shush. Please."

"Mm. I don't know. You did try to hit me last time we spoke..."

"Please!"

"Nope. I think I should tell Snape. Yeah that's exactly what I'll do."

"What? No! Don't!"

But it was too late. Peeves flew down the hall into Snape's room. Melusine grabbed the cloak, got up and wrapped it around her, running for her life.

She ran down several halls, then into the library. Maybe she could hide here. She bumped into a shelf and a couple of books fell. One opened and started to scream. The book was screaming! How was that possible. She closed the shrieking book. Someone had to have heard that. And what made it worse was that she was in the restricted section of the library. She was definitely going to be expelled for sure.

Panicking, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside — she ran for it. She passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through her, and Melusine slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. She had been so busy getting away from the library, she hadn't paid attention to where she was going. Perhaps because it was dark, she didn't recognize where she was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, she knew, but she must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library — Restricted Section."

Melusine felt the blood drain out of her face. Wherever she was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to her horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Melusine stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see her, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into her— the cloak didn't stop her from being solid.

She backed away as quietly as she could. A door stood ajar to her left. It was her only hope. She squeezed through it, holding her breath, trying not to move it, and to her relief she managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Melusine leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning. "Want to play chess, Melusine?" Asked Ron.

"No." She shook her head.

That third night she found her way back to the room she had hidden in the other night, from Snape and Filch, more quickly than before. She was walking so fast she knew she was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone. That night she had noticed something before she left. There was a picture of her mother and father, she promised herself she would come back to see it.

She looked around, worried she had imagined it.

But no. There were her mother and father in a picture, names there below them as plain as day. Melusine sank down to sit on the floor in front of the large picture. Everyone one was right, she did look like her mother, but she had her father's eyes. But that was pretty much it. There was nothing else in her features to suggest she was even remotely his daughter. Her mother, on the hand, looked like her, but all grown up. She smiled. A tear rolling down her cheek. So these were her parents, huh? Oh how she wished she could know them. How she wished they could be there with her, teach her of the wizarding world, be there for her, love her. There was nothing to stop her from staying here all night with her _real_ family. Nothing at all.

Except —  
"So — back again, Melusine?"

Melusine felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She looked behind her. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Professor Snape. Where had he come from?!

"I — I didn't see you, sir."

She let the cloak fall off her head, but kept it wrapped around the rest of her body, she was in her little black nightie. She blushed slightly just thinking about it.

"And what are you doing here?"

Melusine got up, still keeping the cloak around her body.

"Looking at my parent's picture. I've never seen them before. It's weird knowing I was raised by my aunt and uncle and never knew they weren't my real parents. And here they are, real pictures of them. And I never even knew them."

"And how did you even know this room was here?"

"Uh...um..."

"So it was you the other night!?"

"Uh, yes. Yes sir. It was."

"You were out past curfew, alone, went into the restricted section of the library, and even damaged a few old but priceless books. Do you know what your punishment would be for this?"

"Expulsion?"

"_Exactly_."

"Alright. I'll pack my bags."

He watched her start to leave but sighed, stopping her.

"I didn't say I was going to punish you..."

Melusine turned around, shocked. Snape wasn't going to punish her!?

"Really? Wait a minute...I thought you would've jumped at the chance to expel me?"

"No. I wouldn't. I have no reason to, do I?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Then why would I enjoy punishing you? It's actually quite the opposite."

"I doubt that."

"Really? Well what do you think I think of you?"

"I think you hate me."

"Oh? If I hated you, why would I have saved you from that vampire?"

"Um-"

"And why would I have complimented your potion making skills and bravery?"

"I uh-"

"And why wouldn't I have already expelled you for catching me on fire back at the quidditch match?"

"You know about that?"

"Of course I know about that!"

"Heh, heh...I-"

"And if you still think I hate you, why wouldn't I have punished you the first night you were up and walking about past curfew?"

"Well, um, I-"

"And-"

"Will you let me talk!?"

He raised a thick black eyebrow, eyebrows still furrowed, in anger or annoyance she couldn't tell.

Melusine sighed, clearing her throat. "If you didn't hate me then why do you always embarrass me, and yell at me all the time?"

"Because, I'm a teacher. It's my job."

"To yell at people?"

"To teach them, and that includes teaching them a lesson."

"Yeah, alright. Whatever you say. What ever makes you right, know-it-all. You have earned the best damned teacher ever award. Goody for you, Mr. Asshole."

Melusine rushed passed Snape but he stopped her, grabbing her arm tightly in his, yanking her back. He loosened his hold, but still kept a tight grip on her.

"Listen here, and listen good. I don't take back-talking very well. And I'll be damned if I let one of my students talk to me that way!"

"Oh yeah!? And what are ya going to do about it!?"

Snape growled as Melusine smirked, both looking into each other's eyes intently.

"Go on, yell at me! Take points away! Hell! Hit me if you want! I don't care. I'm not afraid of you! And that bothers you doesn't it? Having everyone fear you even the adults, except for a woman, a mere student. Does it drive you mad, knowing I don't cower in your presence? Knowing I don't give a damn what you say or think? That I have the nerve to insult you?"

Snape growled again, blowing his nose in response.

"Does it make you angry that I defy your rules everyday, ignoring your threats? Or maybe It's-"

But Snape didn't let her finish. He smashed his lips into hers, catching her so off guard, she lost her footing to where he had to catch her. Melusine's eyes widened. Was this really happening? Was Professor Snape really kissing her!? Oh my god!

Melusine hesitated for a moment then kissed Snape back. He loosened his hold on her all the way, as she let his tongue slip into her mouth, kissing each other tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck as Snape intwined his fingers in her beautiful, long, blonde hair. The kiss deepened. Both lips parting, tasting each other. Snape's black hair tickled her cheek as he leant in closer, pressing his body against hers.

The kiss stopped. She was still in shock and didn't know exactly what to say, so she said, "Ok. So...You don't hate me?"

Snape's gaze softened, although he was still in shock as well. He let his deep, british, nasally voice drawl his next word out lowly.

_"Ob-vious-ly."_

Melusine smiled, but frowned when she saw Snape's face.

"What's wrong?"

He quickly let go of her, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you remember this. This was wrong of me anyway."

"What!? No! Don't!"

But it was to late, Snape raised his wand to her forehead and mumbled the magic words: "Obliviate."

She felt a tingling sensation in her head then fainted. Snape caught her in his arms and snuck her up into her room, leaving her on the bed.

"I'm sorry." He said again, kissing her forehead before leaving.


	3. Dad?

The next morning Melusine didn't know whether she was imagining it or not, but she seemed to keep running into Snape wherever she went. At times, she even wondered whether Snape was following her, trying to catch her on her own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so...so nice to Melusine. What was going on? Melusine didn't see how he could — yet she sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

Melusine knew, when they wished Harry good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron, Hermione and her were all wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand and Nine.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry. Apparently Snape was refereeing. Melusine was sitting with them in the Gryffindor stands, even though she was a Slytherin, ready to watch the match. So was Snape, sort of. He was flying on his broom, quite close to her, avoiding eye contact, but ready to referee the game.

Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside. "Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch, it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much. Even though I don't see how he can. Just catch the snitch, don't worry about anything else. You'll do fine."

"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even — blimey — Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart did a somersault as it always did when Dumbledore watched his games.

"_Dumbledore_?" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him or cheat if Dumbledore was watching.

Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione, whispering "Look — they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. Melusine was doing the same.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy despite his fear. "Screw you! I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled loudly with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry. Melusine knew this, and she wasn't going to stand by and watch Malfoy be a little bitch.

Melusine growled loudly getting their attention. "I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word —"

But she was cut off. "Melusine!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry — !"

She turned around, worried. "What? Where? What's wrong?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, whistling loudly as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy, sneering.

Melusine snapped. How dare he make fun of her friend like that!? Before Malfoy knew what was happening, She was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape — she didn't even notice Malfoy and Melusine rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Melusine, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches — the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised triumphantly, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Melusine! Melusine! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing and jumping up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row up front.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it — the game was over; it had barely lasted three minutes. A record compared to his five minute game when he was in his first year. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped, glaring at him — then Harry felt a strong hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you have been practicing. . . been keeping busy . . . excellent . . . Don't worry about Snape, He's always been a grump."

Snape spat bitterly on the ground. But looked back towards the stands, seeing Melusine beating the crap out of Malfoy.

His eyes widened as Crabbe raised his large fist to hit Melusine. "Don't you dare!" He was beside them in a split millisecond. He grabbed Crabbe's arm, bending it backwards behind his back, there was a horrible crunch and Crabbe yelped in pain.

Snape sneered. "I hope you know how many bones left you have for me to break."

The boy whimpered. As Snape continued, everyone watching in fear.

"Now get your arse out of here, all three of you! Go!"

Crabbe and Goyle ran off, with Crabbe going to the nurse but Melusine still had Malfoy pinned to the ground, whom surprisingly, hadn't took a swing at her, not even once.

Snape grabbed Melusine's arm gingerly, that was raised high, ready to strike the boy again.

"Don't. He's not worth it."

Malfoy scoffed, appalled. "What are you talking about, Snape!? I'm worth everything, millions!"

"You ain't worth shit!" Melusine yelled, yanking her arm out of Snape's grasp and hitting Malfoy in the face.

She felt the sickening, yet satisfying crack of bone. Malfoy's nose bent to the side, blood gushing out, down his lip and chin. He cried out in pain, but still didn't hit her back. Snape grabbed Melusine's arm as she raised it up to strike again, this time aiming for his jaw.

"_Don't_."

She hesitated but obeyed, getting off the boy.

"Go to the nurse's office, now. Your nose is no doubt broken."

Malfoy obeyed, holding onto his nose as it bled. Snape turned back to Melusine, letting go of her arm.

"Fighting is against the rules, Mel. You know that. You can be expelled. And you could have gotten hurt, thankfully he didn't hit you back."

She looked up at Snape quickly.

"Did you just call me Mel?"

His eyes widened as he shook his head, silently scolding himself at his slip up. "What? No, I didn't. I said Melusine, not Mel." He lied.

She smiled, a smirk forming on her plump black lips, seeing right through his facade. "No, No. I think you did just call me Mel."

He frowned, shaking his head again. "You're hearing things."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

She rolled her eyes in frustration. "Fine. Whatever, You liar."

In a rage Snape grabbed her arm and yanked her back to him. Realizing everyone was watching, he let her go.

She took out her wand, pointing it at him, angry.

Snape glared. "You wouldn't dare."

She smirked. "Try me." But before she could preform a spell she gasped in extreme pain, falling to the ground.

Snape screamed, partly in shock and then worry. "Melusine!"

He ran forward, kneeling down beside her.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

She screamed, gasping as she clutched her other wrist. "My arm! It's burning!"

"Your arm?"

He looked down at the wrist she was holding but saw nothing. Suddenly his own arm started to burn. He hissed in pain, looking down as he lifted his black sleeve of his robe.

His Dark Mark. It was _moving. _It was_ burning!_

_He was alive!_

They rushed Melusine to the nurse with Snape following from behind.

Dumbledore had apparated to the scene shortly after the fight had stopped.

"What's going on, Severus? Is she ok?"

"I don't want to alarm you headmaster but-"

"But what?"

"H-Her arm is burning."

"That's unfortunate but...Why would that alarm me?"

"At the exact same time...So did mine."

"You don't mean?"

"Yes. The Dark Mark...It was moving, burning."

"No-"

"Yes. I have a reason to believe she has one as well, just somehow not visible."

"Why-How could she-"

"I'm not sure yet, Headmaster. But right now we need to get her to the nurse. What she is experiencing is unlike anything I've seen in a dark mark. She's in unbearable pain, we can't delay this."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand. When she is taken care of come see me in my office, immediately."

Snape nodded quickly. "Yes, Headmaster."

This couldn't be happening.

They wheeled her in from a gurney, she was still whimpering, trying to hold back the tears, trying to be strong, to hide her weakness. But it was getting harder for her every second that passed.

She parted her lips, eyes looking around quickly. "P-Professor...?"

Snape glanced down at her face just as a tear rolled down her soft cheek.

Was she calling for him?

She whimpered again, parting her smooth black lips. "Professor Snape...?"

His eyes widened as he leaned in into her line of sight so she could see him. "Yes?"

"What's happening? Did someone hex me?"

"No. No one has hexed you..."

"Then...Why? Why does my arm hurt so bad?" She cried out again, making Snape flinch. "I-It's excruciating!"

"I know...But I can't answer that yet. As soon as I am permitted to, I'll tell you everything. But right now you just need to hold on. We'll make the pain go away, I promise."

"You really promise?"

"Yes, I really promise."

"Cross your heart?"

He chuckled lightly. "Cross my heart."

She smiled slightly at the sound of her making him actually laugh, eyes gleaming with fresh tears. "Thank you. Please...Hurry..."

"We will."

He was about to say something else when his own arm burned again, this time the pain was worse. He hissed, instantly grabbing his wrist. Melusine looked at him with a worried expression, eyebrows furrowed. "Professor?"

"I-It's alright. I'm fine."

"Your arm...It hurts too, doesn't it?"

He hesitated but answered her truthfully. "Yes."

"Like mine?"

"Yes..."

"Then you should know what's going on then? Why can't you tell me?"

"I just can't."

His mark burned again, causing him to stop in his tracks, the pain was getting too much, he's never experienced anything like it before, and that's saying something, he's been tortured numerous times even by the Dark Lord himself.

"Snape?"

"I'm fine. I am. Really."

"No. You're not. Something's really wrong. I can feel it."

"I know. Me too, Melusine, I can feel it too..."

They hauled her up onto a white bed, raising her sleeve.

Nothing was there but it was obvious something, somehow, had to be.

He suddenly had an idea. "Move." He rushed passed the nurses, witch's and wizards, to Melusine's bedside. He took out his black wand and held it to her arm where the pain was originating. "Be still, Melusine."

She nodded hesitantly. "Ok."

He sighed heavily, readying himself and his wand. "Homenum Revelio!"

She cried out in pain, squirming under the power of the spell. Snape was horrified to find that the spell had worked, the Dark Mark raised from her skin, now visible.

"Just as I thought..."

"What!? What is it!?"

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you."

"What had to happen to me!?"

He shook his head again. "Nothing, nothing. Let the nurses tend to you. I'll be back soon."

"No! Don't leave me! What's going on?"

He turned back to her before apparating to Dumbledore. "Only time can truly tell." He sighed again. "Only time..."

He was in Dumbledore's office in a split second, the headmaster was sitting in his chair at his desk.

"Severus."

"She has it, the Dark Mark."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. He bolted up in his chair. "Are you sure?"

"I cast the spell to reveal it, it's definitely there."

"This is impossible. Harry killed him! This can't be happening!"

"I know, Headmaster, I know. But It's obviously happening. Somehow he has returned without the need of her summoning him. And I think It's only a matter of time before-"

Dumbledore interrupted, knowing fully well what Severus was about to say. "What do you suppose we do?"

"I...I don't know. I am not as wise as you. But if he is truly alive, he most likely believes I'm still a loyal follower. Do you want me to spy, like I did before, if he is to summon me?"

"Yes. But I need you to be extra careful this time. You must not give him any information about her or us."

Snape shook his head as if he was accused of something horrible. "I wouldn't dream of it!"

After a moment of silence Albus spoke, suddenly very serious. "Do you..._Care_ for her, Severus?"

He hesitated, shocked Dumbledore could see through him so easily. He prepared himself for the lie that was to come from his lips. "She is...a good student, and a nice girl, if that's what you mean. I...do not wish any harm on her..."

Dumbledore sighed, nodding. A disappointed look in his light grey eyes. "Yes...That's what I meant. I...understand, Severus. I understand completely."

Snape glanced around awkwardly, then looked back into Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't know what to do. Do you want me to leave now?"

"Yes. Stay by her side, comfort her. But do not tell her what that mark means. We don't want to frighten her. If V-" He sighed again, shaking his head. "If Voldemort truly is alive, and he calls you, go to him. I trust you, Severus. But am I wise to?"

"Of course, sir. I am loyal to you, her, and this school. I won't let you down."

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe you."

Suddenly Professor McGonagall burst through the door, horrified. "Headmaster!"

"Minerva?! What?- Is everything alright?"

"It's Melusine, sir. She's calling for Snape. Something seems terribly wrong. And I saw...Please tell me I'm imagining things, sir. But I saw...On her wrist, the-the Dark Mark."

Both Snape and Dumbledore sighed. After a moment Albus spoke. "You did not imagine that, Minerva. The time has come, as we have feared. He is alive, getting stronger as we speak. And Melusine does indeed have the Dark Mark. No doubt he'll be coming for her soon."

"Oh god! Albus! Not her! Why her!?"

Dumbledore's face seemed to be asking the same thing. He turned back to Professor Snape, a frown marring his usually happy features. "Go Snape, leave me and Minerva to our conversation."

"Yes, sir."

Snape apparated away, back down to the nurse's room where Melusine was staying.

He heard horrible screams coming from her bed, he cringed, rushing to her side, pushing the people away.

"S-Snape?"

"Yes, Melusine?"

"It hurts!"

"I know, but everything will be ok."

She screamed again, he looked down at her wrist where the Dark Mark was located. It was moving like he'd never seen before, suddenly her wrist started to bleed, a small slit forming in her light skin.

She gasped and so did he, the snake that had been in the skull of her Dark Mark was now alive and emerging from the fresh wound. Snape tried to grab it but the snake snapped at him, hissing loudly.

Melusine looked down at the snake as it threatened to bite her teacher. She opened her mouth, speaking Parseltongue, causing everyone around her to back away except for Snape, who stood rooted to the ground in shock.

The hissing sounds escaped her lips, getting the snake's full attention. "_Hi-Hoth-Seaes..._" It turned around, slithering up closer to her. She continued. "_Seea-Hoth-Seaes..._" The snake, now calm, slithered onto her arm, laying on the Dark Mark.

"_See-Seae-Hoth-See-Hethah..._"

The snake entered her arm once again, the wound immediately healing as it positioned itself exactly like it was before it came out.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Snape found his voice, looking at her worriedly. "You're a Parselmouth?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I know It's considered a bad thing but I didn't want it to hurt you so I-"

He stopped her, putting a pale finger to her lips. "Shush. It's okay."

"I-What was that thing, where did it come from!?"

"That was a snake-"

"I know that! But where-why did it-How did it come out of me!?"

"It came out of your arm, for reasons I do not know yet...I can't tell you what that mark is. I've been given my orders, and I must follow them, no questions asked, no matter what."

"That's not fair!"

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not! You're such a liar!"

He grabbed her face, turning it towards him gently, despite his anger. "I'm not a liar. I'm keeping this from you for your own good. I'm protecting you."

Her lip quivered as she jerked her head away. "You're doing a horrible job of it."

He sighed, shaking his head, calming himself down. "Look at me."

She didn't.

He grew angry again, nerves torn to pieces. "Look at me!"

She jumped at the sound of his screaming and turned her head, fear apparent in her big green eyes.

"I'm protecting you. This is the best thing for you right now, you must not know what's going on. I can't let you."

She glared, shaking her head. "So you're only protecting me because you have too, Because Dumbledore told you too? I bet you're just waiting for the chance to leave me and go back to your room. I bet I'm a huge inconvenience right now huh?"

His mouth dropped, eyes wide. "No! No...No."

Her own eyes widened as he reacted to her accusation more then she thought he would.

"I'm protecting you because I want to, because I need too. Even if I were given orders not to, I would still remain by your side."

"Why? Am I that important? Obviously something serious is going on. Am I a danger to the school? Is that why you're here?"

"Yes and no. I'm here with you because..."

"Because?"

"Because I..."

"You what?"

"Never mind."

"What? No! Answer me. I'm tired of this! I need answers! I'm so confused right now! I'm in unbearable pain, and no one will tell me why!"

She started to cry after a moment of silence, after she realized he obviously wasn't going to answer her. Tears rushed down her beautiful face. "Please!"

_"Don't cry...Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you sad."_

"I can't help it!"

Snape furrowed his brows. "You can't help what?"

"You just said not to-Didn't you just speak?"

"No."

"Yes you did, you told me not to cry."

"No I didn't. I figured it was healthier for you to just let your emotions out."

"Then who-I heard-but-"

"You're probably just tired, you need sleep. We will get this sorted out as soon as possible."

_"Everything will be ok, I promise."_

"I know, I'm just worried."

"You know what?"

"You just said-"

"I didn't say anything."

"What? But-"

"Just lay down, it seems like the medication is taking hold, the pain has gone down, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, but it still hurts a little."

_"It'll go away. The pain is only temporary."_

"It is?"

"It is, what?"

"The pain, you said it was only temporary and that it'd go away."

"No I didn't. I didn't speak at all. Didn't you see my lips? They weren't moving."

"What? B-"

"Something else is obviously wrong, you're hearing things."

"I'm not hearing things, I heard a voice, a man's voice. Who else could it have been but you?"

Snape was quiet for a moment, eyes wide with terror. "Stay here."

"No! Don't go! I don't want to me alone..."

But it was too late. Snape was gone.

She whispered to herself again, another tear running down her cheek. "I don't want to be alone anymore..."

_"You're not alone. You were never alone, my child..."_

She bolted upright, looking around. "W-Who's there?!"

The voice hissed again, it sounded like it was inside her head. _"Do you not recognize my voice? I use to talk to you all the time. How can you not remember me?"_

The voice sounded hurt, like it was sad.

"Who are you? I don't know you."

_"Know me? Of course you know me...Listen to my voice, remember...Think hard..."_

She did, searching every memory inside her head. But still she couldn't remember the voice.

"I can't remember. I-I don't know who you are."

_"You have to know! Think! Think, please!"_

She did again, thinking as hard as she could. Then something happened. It was a flashback. At least she thought that's what it was. She couldn't see much of anything, it was all dark. She saw a shadow of a large hand go by, like it was waving at her, or something similar to that. It felt as if she were suspended in water, floating as if she were in space. She tried to look around but found she couldn't control her movements. What was going on? She saw a small foot in front of her. That was odd. But she couldn't look down to see the whole thing. Who's was it? It couldn't have been hers. It was too small, like a...a _baby's_. She suddenly realized she was the baby, and she was in her mother's womb. She heard a voice, the same man that was speaking to her from before.

_"Melusine, my dear...Can you hear me? Do you see my hand?"_

So that's what it was, the man's hand was rubbing the woman's belly, that's how she could see the shadow. There was a loud giggle, it sounded like a woman's, and it was. It was her mom.

_"She's moving quite a bit, I think she can hear you. Go on, try to say something else."_

_"Melusine...This is your father. I love you. Me and your mother both love you. Remember that forever. You are destined for great things, my child. Great things."_

A dozen thoughts crossed her mind as the memory continued. All she could think about was her father's voice, her real father and mother.

_"My child, I will come back for you one day. I must not die. I will always protect you. Always. That is why I must go and fight. I must destroy the one thing that stands in my way, that stands in our way. Stay safe."_

She suddenly grew very angry, coming out of the memory back to reality, screaming.

"You're not here now! You never were!"

She began to cry again.

"I never even knew you! How could you give me up to another family, to people who hate our kind!?"

After a moment her dad spoke.

_"I was already dead then. I'm sorry. They...took you from your mother, from me."_

"But why!? I-I never even got to see you! I was never held or cradled by you, by mother. Why didn't you just stay instead of going out to fight!? Now I'm all alone, I have no real family, no parents."

_"I'm sorry, baby. I am. I fought because if I would have won, the end result would make the world a better place for us to live. But I died. I failed you and my family. I failed my master's plan. But I'm here now. I'm here for you now."_

"What's your name? Who's my mother? Where is she?"

_"Your mother... She was a great witch, she did many great things. I trusted her with my life. But...She is gone now."_

"She's dead?"

_"Yes. She died protecting me. I vowed to avenge her death, but died before I could do so."_

"If you died, how are you talking to me now?"

_"Because I'm back, alive. I will come for you and I will avenge your mother's death. She will not die in vain. And you...You will not be alone anymore, you'll have me, we can finally be a family."_

"You promise?"

Even though she couldn't see her father she felt as if she could feel his smile, feel the happiness radiating from him.

_"I promise."_

Suddenly Professor Snape burst back through the door, Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore behind him.

Melusine felt the presence of her father disappear as they entered the room, making her cry all over again. "No! Don't leave me!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "You say he's speaking to her."

Snape nodded. "Yes. But It seems he is gone now."

Dumbledore nodded back. "Probably because we're here."

Snape smiled slightly. "He was always a little afraid of you."

"Yes...But I don't see why."

Professor McGonagall took a step forward. "Melusine?"

She looked over at the teacher, angry. "You ruined everything! You made him leave!"

"Melusine, listen to me! You mustn't listen to the voice in your head! Do you hear me!?"

"W-Why?"

"Because. You just mustn't, ok? Ignore him."

"But-"

"No! Ignore him!"

"No! He's my father!"

"How did you k-"

"He told me."

They all gulped. "So then you know he's-"

"Alive? Yes."

They all looked horrified.

"What? What's wrong? I thought you all loved my parents? Didn't Hagrid say their names were Sarah and Jack? He said they were great wizards. Good people."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both sighed. "Yes...Sarah and Jack. Your parents..."

"What's wrong? Aren't you glad Jack is alive."

Dumbledore stepped forward beside Minerva. "Of course we are. Who wouldn't be? But you need to listen to us. Do not talk to that voice in your head, It's...It's not Jack."

"But the memory, the voice. It was my dad, I know it!"

"What memory?"

"He told me to think as hard as I could, to try and remember him, remember his voice. I did, and I found a memory in the back of my mind. I don't know how I'd remember something like that, I barely even remember anything before I was nine. But it was me, a baby, in my mother's womb, dad was talking to me."

"You didn't see them, did you?"

"No. I was inside the womb."

"So you never saw who was talking?"

"No. But I know it was my dad and mom."

Professor McGonagall turned towards Dumbledore. "I thought the court Obliterated her m-"

Dumbledore stopped her before she could finish her sentence.

"Ahem! Melusine, the voice inside your head is not your da-It's not Jack. Ok? Do not talk to it, don't listen to it, ignore it."

"...Ok..."

They all sighed again, this time looking relieved. "Get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow...Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Melusine."

She laid back down, closing her eyes as they left after turning off the light. But heard the voice again.

_"Goodnight my little viper."_

She just couldn't help herself, not with all the hope swelling up inside her.

"Goodnight, daddy."

She felt a bunch of emotions, but they weren't her own. They were her father's. Happiness, seriousness, joy, shock, delight, excitement, love, affection, calmness, relief, trust, pride, satisfaction, compassion, tenderness, and adoration. It was all a little overwhelming.

She opened her mouth again, wanting to keep talking to him.

"I love you, daddy."

She felt the same emotions intensify. He finally answered, it felt as if someone was hugging her. She could feel it, two strong arms wrapped around her, hugging her close. She was sure it was him, she didn't know how, but she knew it was him.

_"I love you too."_

"D-Dad?"

_"Yes?"_

"Tell me something only you would know, only something a father would know. I need to trust you, to know you're my real father."

After a couple minutes he responded.

_"You were early, weighed only three pounds. It scared us to death, we thought you were going to die. We had a home birth, It was difficult but thankfully we knew spells to help you and your body's development. You were 11 inches long. So tiny, I was afraid to hold you. I thought I'd crush you. You were the most adorable baby I had ever seen. You had the most beautiful big green eyes and light thin blonde hair, like me when I was young. You looked so much like your mother though."_

She smiled. That's what Hagrid had told her, she looked like her mother but had her father's blonde hair and green eyes. She'd have to ask him how much she weighed to see if what the man was saying was true.

_"Does that help?"_

"Yes. Thank you."

After a while the voice spoke again.

_"I've missed you so much. You've grown into a fine young woman. I only wish I was there for your first words and your first steps, your first year in school, your birthdays, and your teenage years. I wish I was there for your first date, wand in hand, waiting for the boy who thought he was good enough for my baby. And your prom, spying on you throughout the dance, making sure he didn't try anything. Your graduation...I bet you were the smartest in your class, no, in the world."_

There was a long pause.

_"I wish I was there to comfort you in your time of need, through your nightmares, when you were sick, or scared. I'm sorry..."_

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"Oh, daddy...It's okay. It's not your fault. But, you're here now, right?"

_"Yes. I'm here now. I won't ever leave you again."_

"Then that's all that matters. I forgive you. I love you, daddy. Please come for me soon."

_"I will, darling. I will. Get some rest. Goodnight."_

"Goodnight..."


End file.
